


Year 0 Operations

by Lacklusterswirl



Series: Rainbow Operations [1]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Assisted Suicide, Bartlett, Before and during Rainbow, Flashbacks, Gen, Injury, Kind of sad?, Mental Instability, Minor Character Death, Mission Gone Wrong, Missions, Near Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rescue, Team Bonding, Violence, operations - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-09-30 18:59:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17229458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacklusterswirl/pseuds/Lacklusterswirl
Summary: Rainbow's first year operating. This is how I imagine everyone getting selected, fighting and stuff. Plus, it's practice for me for writing action scenes, though there will be some non-action stuff between.





	1. SAS

“So, if this wire connects right here, it’ll amplify the radius so that it can cover the distance between doorways. It basically doubles the efficiency! That’s it! One simple…”

Mark paused as he felt a muscle in his back twinge with pain. He hurriedly fixed his posture in an attempt to try and mediate the cramp so that he could sit for just a little longer. After all, his equipment had to be perfect for the practice later. A few of his friends had told him about the training that was about to happen. It was apparently more of a demonstration, and those who performed well would receive a promotion.

Promotions and titles were never his thing, but Mark always felt the need to show off. His age, background, and even appearance screamed ‘boy’ to the soldiers around him. He was the rude, detached smartass that didn’t like to talk to others. If he had nothing to back up his image, there was no saying what would happen to him in his job.  That’s why he hunched over again, fiddling with his gadget until it was perfect.

.

“Look, James,” Thatcher muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose to try and prevent the oncoming headache caused by the most chaotic man he’s ever had the misfortune of mentoring. “Think of this is a chance to prove your worth. You know the rumours.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m a hazard, I can’t keep a cool head, I’m arrogant, what haven’t they said about me?” Who needed to tell him he was good if he already knew it himself?

His response caused Thatcher to clench his fists. Really. The older he got, the more he felt like a daycare teacher, keeping his kids from killing themselves or each other. “What haven't they said? That you’re a good teammate, a good fighter. They think you harm more missions that not. Imagine if you could prove yourself here. You could…” he let out a sigh. “You could rub it in their faces.”

“Mhmm…” That pause. The glint in his eyes told Thatcher that he had won the case, though James would never admit it.

“Ah, think it over, get your head out of your arse, and try your best out there, yeah?”

“Eh, we’ll see if I feel like sucking up to those-”

“James.”

He sighed. “Yes, _sir._ ”

.

Seamus was innately curious. Anything he didn’t understand, he would always try to learn more about. When the rumours circulated about a new kind of project, of course he tried figure out what it was about. Then he heard that it was basically a competition. The best performers would be recruited, and from what it sounded like, boy would it be an honour.

But the people who were here were… interesting to say the least. He saw Thatcher there, and that made sense. He had been in action since before some of them were born, and that meant that he had tons more experience than any other soldier in the room. Plus, he may be called old on more than just one occasion, but good lord could the man fight. Even Seamus, the giant, the holder of fitness records among the SAS, would think twice about taking him on.

Then there was… James was his name, wasn’t it? Now that was a man with a downright terrible reputation. Reckless, arrogant, and mouthy, to name just a few flaws, but still, his smoke bombs seemed to be the talk of the base after any training situations. Seamus made a mental note to keep an eye on him. James digging himself a hole was one thing, but Seamus didn’t want to follow him under.

A few other faces he’s seem before, even a few good friends. No one spoke a word, as no one knew what they were gearing up for. Out of all of them, the silence somehow managed to thicken around one in particular. Mark. The quiet boy, really, he didn’t look a man yet, sat by himself. Being the youngest had its downfalls. Seamus had heard that the boy graduated from University before turning twenty, though he never bothered asking for himself. The lad didn’t seem like he wanted to be questioned either. People who did ask about him came back complaining about how condescending he was, that he looked down on others for their lack of smarts. Perhaps Seamus should’ve tried harder to get to know the boy before getting called here. At least to put himself at ease a little more.

“You done staring off there, Seamus?” Thatcher caught his attention.

“Uh, yea.” Thatcher raised a brow. “Yes, sir.”

“Then let’s go then, yeah?”

.

“Alright, here’s the plan.”

Of course, everyone listened to the giant man breathing heavily into his mask. People were too scared to speak up. James could barely keep focused on the task, to bored to really care. But as Thatcher said, if he could rub it in everyone’s faces that he could best them for this position while not even trying… Yes please.

“Seamus,” James heard himself saying, catching everyone’s attention. He had never really talked to this giant besides the occasional ‘’scuse me’ when James was blocked from entering a room. “Your plan’s great and all, but we have tools that you aren’t thinkin’ of, mate. Not everyone’s weapon is a giant hammer.”

“For example?”

“My toxic beuts.”

“Your what?”

“Gas canisters. They detonate and the enemies fall. You put me in the open area. There ain’t no way I can use my gas that way!”

“What’s the radius on the gas?”

“Not big enough for the office area, that’s for sure. Put me in the smaller rooms or a hallway by myself.”

Sledge, as big and dumb as you’d expect him, was actually quite tactical, all things considered. Yes, Smoke would be ok with putting his faith in this man. At least until he was proven wrong. Sledge rearranged their defence to be less roam dependent, and centering majority of their teammates around the objective with select people holding important rooms. It was actually impressive how quickly he could reorganize and assign new roles with each new piece of information he gained. The final plan would be foolproof – well, as long as they weren’t fools themselves.

.

Thatcher knew these men. He knew men who came before these ones, and even some of the ones before them. That was all to say that Thatcher had been here for a long time. And many of the people he started with were mostly dead or retired. Nevertheless, these trainings were done so often that he knew exactly what to do. Sledge always liked to be on offence, not the one defending the objectives, but he was tactical on either side. Still, Thatcher knew the strat.

Sledge always liked offence, and liked to apply that mentality to defence as well. There would be perhaps one or two people stationed in rooms next to objective, but Thatcher expected that most of them would be far away from site, trying to pick them off while the attacking team made their way to the site. This would call for a complete sweep of all floors. Even splitting up could be risky.

“Alright, listen up. If I know those boys, and I do know them, they’re going to roam heavily. I want a full five man sweep bottom up before contesting objective. Now, this house is big, so we have to make sure we’re efficient. Any questions?” A bunch of heads nodding along was all the confirmation needed.

 _Alright, mission is a go, good luck everyone._ The announcer spoke in their ear.

“Approach from south, beware peeks,” Thatcher called out, waving for his team to follow.

They breached into the basement through the garage, a couple people droning out the area while the other three covered their teammates.

“Garage clear!”

“Workout room clear as well!”

“There’s one watching the stairs leading to the kitchen, but he has the better angle so we gotta find a better way to fight him.”

Alright. They couldn’t waste too much more time, so he nodded at the two to put away their screens and follow him in. Like they promised, the first two rooms were empty, though before going up the stairs, Thatcher pointed at two of them to split off and go up the kitchen stairs where someone should’ve been waiting. He led the other three up a set of stairs that seemed to lead to the living room, next to the kitchen. There was a steady exchange of gunfire, as his boys were probably challenging the lone roamer to distract him. Thatcher quietly led his team to flank him.

As they crept closer, he saw that it was Seamus, but as he opened fire, someone else opened fire on them, causing the Scot to spin and fire wildly at Thatcher’s team. They dived behind couches as they returned fire, and their team on the kitchen stairs pushed up to drive the roamers back. Soon enough, they heard footsteps retreat up the stairs

“Drones out again?” Thatcher asked once they all reloaded.

“This house only has one staircase up, but no one’s watching it right now.”

They couldn’t all funnel through there, everyone knew that. “We’ll split again, same teams, three up the stairs, two rappel down the hallway, try to clear the bathroom before entering. Then we clear the roamers out since they’ll have relocated to the rooms next to the objective.”

The three of them watched each other’s backs as they waited for confirmation from the two rappelling. The could hear some shuffling from some of the rooms but remained perfectly still.

“In position!”

“Making our way up,” Thatcher responded as he unclipped an EMP from his belt. “Lights out!”

Sure enough, the hallway lights went dark, and panicked shuffling of feet began. As the feet moved around, a couple gunshots fired, and the announcer called out that it was a 5v4. The attackers made the first blow.

“They’re returning fire, they know we’re here – shit!”

_4v4_

“I ne-”

_3v4_

In the time it took for the two snipers to fall, Thatcher’s little group holed up in one of the rooms, waiting for lights to come back on. While one of them droned, Thatcher risked a look down the hall and caught someone’s boot as they ran into the master bedroom. The sound of cracked glass came from kid’s room as well, and the callout from his teammate came in soon after. The bomb was in kids’ room, but there were still four people somewhere on the-

“Shit, my drone’s jammed! Mark set one up by the door to master.”

“I’ll get rid of it,” Thatcher muttered, rolling a grenade to the doorway, stifling a smile as he heard the younger brit swear as the machine broke.

“Smoke the hallway and the kids’ room and rush in, you two will cover while I plant, alright?” Thatcher ordered. They nodded and he nodded for the smokes to get tossed.

“Go!” he ordered, leading the push into kids’. He was the first one in and quickly shot the man who was holding an angle on the door.

_3v3_

A wall shattered, but Thatcher’s cover was so good that not even a speck of dust reached him while he madly typed on the defuser. Sledge’s grunts could be heard though as one of his guys fell. Still, Thatcher finished in time to help gun down the large man.

_2v2_

Mark tried shooting through the walls at the two attackers defending the defuser, but promptly fell to Thatcher’s remaining teammate when he peeked into the room.

_2v1_

It was now or never. There was no gunfire at all, and the two remaining attackers held angles on the door. Still, not a sound came from the house. The defuser was almost done, and Smoke would have to do something quickly, or else he wouldn’t have enough time to defuse the bomb.

The end crept up on them. There was a yellow gas spewing into the room from the hallway, and Thatcher winced as his partner started coughing, before quickly getting eliminated by the announcer.

_1v1_

That’s when he realized his mistake. Smoke was still alive and defending still. Smoke had three gas grenades total. Smoke had him trapped in a tiny room with only one way out, not counting the window. Smoke was a clever little shit whose laughter could be heard as the remaining two canisters went off, forcing Thatcher into the hallway where James was waiting with his shotgun to Thatcher’s head.

“Game over, _sir._ ”

With that, the training was over, and the two remaining Brits made their way out of the house to meet up with everyone else.

.

“No, because while we’re running the most basic of all drills, there’s a growing terrorist threat in London!” Mike Baker was never someone you wanted mad at you.

Mark gripped his chair so tightly, he saw that his own knuckles were turning white. Thatcher’s anger wasn’t even directed towards him. It was to their boss, and Mark was still not comfortable watching this happen.

“Who even authorized this?”

“I did,” a new person walked into the room. “That growing terrorist threat you’re talking about has been given a name. They call themselves the Deliverance, but to refute, we have named them White Masks.”

“And that’s why we ran recruit drills? A demonstration? That’s why you took me off the Bristol mission? Sir, you must be-”

“Would you four be interested in joining Team Rainbow?”

the woman interrupted him again. This time, all four ops turned to watch her stand in front of them.

“What the hell is Rainbow?” Thatcher sat down next to Mark and gave the younger man a disappointed head shake. Mark could only nod and look away.

“An International organization to combat this new threat. Only the best operators from elite organizations will be part of this, and I want you four to join.”

“You know, that does make a lot more sense why we did that simulation, huh, Thatcher?” James smirked.


	2. GIGN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, it's been a long time since I even took a French class, so I didn't want to even attempt to write dialogue in French. Please just imagine that all dialogue between French operators are done in French. Thanks.

The number of times Paris itself has been threatened was heartbreaking. Because the next time Gustave planned on talking to his parents, he expected it to be a conversation where he regretfully told his parents once again that he wouldn’t make it to the next big family event, whatever it may be. But quite the opposite, he was calling to see if they were alive, and that thought itself made his fist tremble in anger.

“Doc, are you ready?” Gilles asked with a frown on his face.

“I’ve called them three times and they haven’t picked up. My sisters even responded. It’s just them now, and no one knows where they are.” He paced back and forth pulling on the rest of his armour.

The older man had basically been confined to a desk since he became a trainer, but seeing Montagne in his full suit was refreshing. “We’re going to do the best we ever have,” Gilles assured his teammate.

Doc only scoffed though. “We’ll see then, my friend. You look good in armour. Like you never left it.”

“Really?” He led the two of them to over to where the vehicles were waiting. “Because I feel like I’ve gained some weight. The armour is getting a little tight.”

“Well it doesn’t show. You look like you did when we were in our twenties.”

“Hah! If only! I had no children still.”

.

Twitch and Rook were seated next to each other, neither really saying anything. They hadn’t left each other’s company since the orders were given out. This was the first real major crisis either had ever been a part of, and the pressure to do well was impossible to ignore. Still, as they waited for the doors to open again, Twitch couldn’t imagine being here with anyone else.

“Do you think you’ll be allowed to talk about this day at your next family party?” Rook asked with a small smile.

“If it goes well, it’s all my parents will talk about,” Twitch scoffed. “It’ll finally give our guests something else to listen to instead of my PhD talk.”

“Ugh, I swear you sometimes say that thing in your sleep,” Rook laughed.

They fell into silence again when one of the others glared at the two of them. When the doors opened again, there was a lot of noise. So much so that Rook winced and froze in place while the sounds of loud gunfire sounded all around him.

“Gotta keep moving,” Montagne walked up behind him and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Twitch-”

“Different team,” was the response.

Ah. Rook tried to walk forward but was blocked by the Mountain. “Sir?”

“You’re with me, let’s go.” He walked off with his shield on his arm, leading a team to the side of one of their vehicles.

“The first location hit was an elementary school, and the kids are still there,” Montagne said. Rook stared wide-eyed at the map he was pointing at. “From reports in the building, about a hundred children, ages six to eight are stuck in the school gymnasium with about ten adults. We don’t know how many terrorists are there, but they’re moving something in, and we’ve been told to be cautious moving in.”

“How are we breaching?” another member of their team asked.

“Side door, garage-side. That’s where they entered from, and where the containers were said to have been placed.” Montagne’s eyes flickered up to catch his team staring at him. “If we go straight to the hostages, they can just use whatever they’ve packed up in there. While we serve as a distraction, another team is entering through the side door to try and evacuate the civilians.”

Rook nodded, but that only caused Montagne to give him a weird stare. “This is your first real situation?”

“Y-yes, sir,” he stammered out, only to inwardly wince at himself.

“You’ll be fine. Stick to what you know and we’ll all survive.”

.

Montagne stood in front of the garage door. A breaching charge was stuck onto the door and his team were either behind the vans in the driveway, or standing behind him. There was a countdown, and then the charge exploded. Immediately, gunfire sprayed at them, though all bullets were deflected off his shield or off the sides of the vehicles.

“Sir, I’m moving behind the blue car at the back of the lot and I’m going to pick them off one at a time.” That was Rook, the youngest of his team and new to this type of scenario. Maybe if he could move his team to-

“Grenade, stand behind me!” he had to cut himself off when a loud _thunk_ sounded and he saw the explosive roll away from them.

The explosion didn’t even make him flinch. Small pieces bounced off his shield and scattered around them.

“There’s two behind those garbage bins on the left. Three on your right, but no clear angle. I’ll take the shot if I can. Don’t move, Montagne.”

One shot, a second. Two screams from the enemies, and Rook’s confirmation sounded in the air. Finally, Montagne walked in with his team behind him. Three more shots and Rook announced that the garage appeared to be clear.

“Approach slowly and stay behind me!” Montagne walked in and did one last glance before retracting his shield and motioning for his team to check the containers while Rook and he walked to check out the hall. Rook was behaving better now, clearly displaying why he had won the Marksmanship award. He was more focused, giving proper callouts, and taking good shots.

“Let’s clear out the hallway and then move towards the gym,” Montagne told him, taking a hesitant step forward.

“Go, we’ll give updates as needed,” one of the officers behind them spoke.

They made their way down slowly, with Montagne detailing everything to his partner behind him. Anytime he announced another enemy, a single bullet was all it took to get rid of the threat. A minute ticked by. They were in a staff lounge next to the gym, and were checking for any roaming enemies that could reinforce those in the gym at that moment.

“Charlie one, we figured out what was in the boxes.”

“Go ahead” Montagne motioned for Rook to cover him.

“It’s some sort of gas. They left some sort of file on it, but there’s not much. Symptoms include nausea, delirium, nerve degeneration eventually leading to paralysis… Montagne, this is bad. I think this is the first time that they’re testing it on people. I’ve never even heard of this before, so I’ve already contacted for a CBRN team, but it’ll take time.”

“Charlie two ready for breach, requesting permission from Charlie one.”

“No, don’t breach! It’s a trap!” Montagne instantly responded. “They’re going to release a lethal unknown gas, Boréal, I swear to god do _not_ go in.”

“Fine. We’re in cover, awaiting your signal.”

“Montagne?”

“Yes, Rosé. How long until the CBRN get here?”

“About an hour with how dangerous the outside situation is.”

“Fuck,” Rook whispered, alerting Montagne. “Someone’s walking this way, you keep talking, I’ll take them out.”

.

Rook sleuthed his way around couches to where he heard the footsteps. So, he had misjudged the situation. There were two of them, but he still had the advantage. Despite his heavy armour, they didn’t know where he was. These terrorists were in matching black sweaters, though the tops of bulletproof vests were peeking through.

His hand was shaking a little as he rested his gun against his shoulders. Two head shots. Couldn’t be that-

The sound of breaking glass behind him made him whirl around, just for his gun to get knocked out of his hands while falling on his butt. Still, Rook managed to catch the foot coming down on his chest. He gave it a tug and grunted as the terrorist fell on his leg. He quickly unsheathed his knife and slit his throat. Rook’s gun was within reach, but as his hand brushed up against the metal, shots rang out over his head and he had to pull out his pistol instead.

_Bang Bang_

Two bodies fell, and only then did Rook risk stepping closer. Two clean shots on their foreheads. That was it.

The room shook, and Rook’s eyes went wide.

“Montagne!” he shouted into his coms, wincing as the static grew.

He waited, each second feeling like eternity until he heard the angry reply, “I need you in the gym, Charlie two has breached! Gas bombs equipped and about to go off soon, hurry!”

“On my way-”

“STAY DOWN!” Montagne’s shout could be heard even off the comms as Rook powered his walk back the way he came into the gym.

Rook had never heard a child scream in fear before. He remembers thinking them unpleasant when they were crying or squealing in happiness, but this was so much worse. Cries for their parents, teachers, each other, for help. Rook nearly flinched and missed his first shot, but thankfully it hit the terrorist’s knee, downing him for an easier finish.

“Get a hold of yourself, the rest of our team is one their way, but we are behind enemy lines, so every shot counts. This has to buy enough time for everyone to escape before those gas canisters go off!” Montagne hissed while gripping onto Rook’s arm. The younger man hadn’t even noticed his team leader crouching there.

“I’m ready, let’s do it,” Rook nodded.

One shot, one kill. One shot, one kill. That was the new mantra in his head. Each step forward was another victory, and Rook wanted to win. He simply had to. There were kids filing out of the classrooms with the teachers staying behind to make sure no child was left behind. By the grace of whatever being, Montagne and Rook, and Boréal’s team had most of the gunfire directed at them. The operators were better shots, better trained, better in every sense of the word. And yet it wasn’t enough.

“Boréal’s hit! We need some help, soon!” Another voice, responded.

“That son of a bitch,” Montagne growled, retracting his shield so he could aim better. Nine shots later, and the section he and Rook had cleared the area. “If only he’d listen.”

“Sir, what do we do?” Rook asked, looking around as if another wave of terrorists would come running towards them.

“Our team is here,” he announced, not even looking behind him to see that the four other members had arrived.

“What can we do?” Rosé asked, guns out, and eyes sweeping the area.

“We have one minute to get everyone out and to evacuate ourselves before the gas starts.” Montagne waved them all forward as he started waving some children towards his team. A couple teacher lifted kids into their rescuer’s arms as kids began to run out the second door. “Rosé.”

She nodded and led everyone out, once again leaving Montagne and Rook.

“Boréal? Where are you?” He looked back at Rook and waved for him to keep watch over the area.

“I’m here, Montagne.”

Boréal, was a man of few words. Even fewer than Gilles. That was always his best trait when he was just a recruit. And now, eight years later, and Montagne still wanted to pick him up and carry him to Doc’s office like they were just done a training simulation.

“Let’s get you out.” The heavy and cumbersome shield on Montagne’s arm didn’t bother him even a little as he lifted a couple dead bodies off the man and picked him up in a fireman’s carry. There were just a few teachers in the gym now, and still several children. The teachers dragged kids to whatever door was closest to them, accompanied by officers.

“Ten seconds to detonation, we need to go,” Rook muttered, backing up to the exit where they came in from. “Every one needs to leave the building! Get to fresh air! NOW!”

 Montagne stumbled towards the exit, now feeling his three worst enemies in the form of stressors. His age was showing, he was exhausted, and the man on his shoulders was weighing him down.

_Hssssssss_

It was starting and Montagne barely reached the door.

“Montagne. Mont- fuck. Gilles I’m not going to survive, sir. I can’t stay awake, I think the bullets hit something. You need to leave me behind, sir.”

“No.”

“Sir!” Boréal squirmed so violently that Montagne had no choice but to let him down as far away from the gym doors as possible. “I spent enough time reading those books in Doc’s office to know that my stomach has been shot. That, and perhaps one of my lungs. I have less than a minute to get help, and you have gas catching up. Kill me and run.”

“The doors will buy time,” Montagne tried to reach for him again, but this time Boréal drew his gun and pointed it at Rook.

“You know what I need to do, sir,” he pleaded. “Don’t let the gas kill me. Kill me now, quickly, then run, please. Just tell my family I love them.”

“Montagne,” Rook’s voice trembled. “The gas has reached the door.”

Montagne couldn’t see straight with the tears stubbornly refusing to fall. His pistol was drawn still, just out of reflex, and pointed at his student. He had to control his breathing, calm his heart rate. Anything to even have a change at convincing Olivier that he could survive.

“Gilles, please.”

“Oli, we can still-”

Boréal shot the lights next to Rook’s head making everyone flinch.

“Goodbye, Gilles. I’m sorry for not listening. I promise I did best.”

“You were a good student.”

One pull was all it took.

Oli once said that he only tucked in one side of his shirt. For luck. Not like it helped him today.

“Montagne, the gas made it’s way through the door, we need to run!”

Rook was pulling the shield on Montagne’s arm in an attempt to get him to move. With a shaky nod, the older man stood snatched the dog tags, Oli’s revolver, and the photos he kept in his breast pocket. Then they ran. They ran through room after room, hallway after hallway until they were gasping outside.

A few field medics and people in yellow suits walked towards them and ushered them away. They took everything off the two and threw it in a bin.

Rook insisted they save Montagne’s mementos. They were thrown a trash bin with a furious Rook screaming the entire time. Montagne didn’t say a thing.

.

“This was actually a peaceful neighborhood once, you know?” Doc gave his charming smile. Twitch nodded along numbly, not saying a thing.

“Well, right where we’re walking past used to be this really pretty flower garden, but then some industry thing happened and they repurposed it for more houses. It caused quite a lot of stir back then, but I believe they were angry, not for the environment, but at the family that moved in.”

“Doc, with all due respect, why are you saying this? We just finished our mission but we were the only two who-”

“Why shouldn’t I?” He paused his walking and turned to face his younger partner.

“It’s inappropriate isn’t it? Officers risked their lives today, Doc! They risked and they lost it all. There were the civilians who didn’t want any part of this! They did nothing wrong! Who kills an innocent? Who…” she fell to her knees as unwanted flashbacks invaded her mind. “Who kills anyone?”

“Hey, hey,” Doc knelt beside her. “We lost a lot today, I know. And believe me there is not a single time I have pulled the trigger and not felt some sort of sorrow, no matter who’s at the other end, but Twitch… If we were not here to kill twelve people, more than just one hundred and six civilians will die. To save a life you may have to take one, yes, but what differentiates two lives are what they mean to you. You thought that those children who hid in the fridge deserved a change to live a peaceful life, so you killed the terrorists that threatened him.”

Twitch clutched Doc’s armour and sobbed. “But Pierre died. I would rather die than live in a world without him. He took care of so much, all the way to his end.”

Doc nodded and returned the hug as best he could. “Then carry on knowing he led a good life instead of mourning his death. You know, when people are about to die, they always ask me to ensure their loved ones remember them how they lived. Not died. No one wants to be remembered for dying on the operation table, ten minutes after arriving from a gunfight. They all want to be remembered for helping their children grow into respectable people, for graduating from university, for helping charities. Do as Pierre asked, and remember him as a hero and don’t discredit your life.”

“Thank you, Doc. I’m sorry that-”

“Shh.” He immediately pulled away and placed a hand over Twitch’s mouth. “Someone’s nearby.”

Twitch’s eyes darted around to the corner where she now also heard someone walking. Doc followed her gaze and immediately drew his gun.

“Delta Two, we may have eyes on approaching hostiles, about to have contact. We will update as needed.”

Silently, he made his way behind an abandoned car and waved for Twitch to follow. Once they were in cover, he motioned for Twitch to use her shock drone and kept watch while she piloted it.

Twitch carefully drove her little drone around the corner and into the alley just to see-

“They’re kids, Doc. A boy and a girl. No hostiles in sight.”

Doc glared at the ground in front of him and swore a couple times. “It’s probably a trap, see if they will follow your drone.”

“But then they’ll be in the open!”

“Do as I say.” Doc must have had a plan because he slunk away to another area while Twitch looked down at her arm again.

She showed her drone to the kids and drove in a few circles. The younger one pointed and the older one looked suspicious. Carefully, she bumped into their feet then drove away in her direction. When the two children looked up, Twitch carefully popped her head up and smiled with a pitiful wave.

“Doc I’m going to them.”

“Go, I’ll watch your back.”

Slowly getting out from behind the car, she snuck her way into the alley, careful to hold her hands in the air.

“I’m police, and I’m here to help you two. Where are your parents?”

“I don’t know,” the younger one blurted out. The older kid, who now in person couldn’t have been older than eight, quickly slapped their hand over their sibling’s mouth.

“How can we trust you? Your vest doesn’t say police,” the older child spoke.

Twitch sighed. “Ok, well the GIGN are more like an army. We’re here when big situations happen. And we have bigger guns.”

“Where will you take us?” The older sister was keeping her hand over the younger brother’s mouth, which was a smart move Twitch supposed, though she was also blocking the nose.

“First take your hand off of your brother’s mouth, you’re covering his nose too. I’m going to take you to a medical center where they will take care of you until they find your parents, ok?” Twitch dug around in one of her spare pockets in search of the one thing that all children enjoyed. “Ah, I have some chocolates. They were for a friend of mine, but I’ll give them to you if you want them. You must be hungry, no?”

Before the sister could say anything, the little boy walked up to Twitch, who gladly gave him one of the sweets. “Nico, you can’t take candy from strangers! Mama said that!”

“But she’s police! Mama also said that if something bad happens, we should find police!”

The older child, now without many options, walked up to Twitch as well, and was rewarded with a chocolate. “You need to come with me, but we might have to run. Are you a fast runner?”

“Something fell on Nico’s leg when we were in the house. I can run though.”

Without any hesitation, Twitch wrapped one arm around the little boy, clipping one of her pouches to his zipper on his jacket. “Hold on to me. I may have to use a gun, and you can’t move if I do that, ok?”

Frightened nodding was all she would get in response.

“Stay quiet both of you,” she told them, making her way to the street. She could see Doc in the shadows of a street vendor, and saw him nod his head.

“When I say go, run to that food stand there. A doctor will be there to help us escape, ok?”

Twitch peeked her head around the corner again and this time a bullet went straight by her head.

“Sniper,” was Doc’s grunt as he stood and sprayed fire in the direction of the shot. “Ah. I saw him run, I know his position. Next time I distract, you run.”

Twitch held a finger to her lips as the boy she was holding let out a whimper. “Shhh. It’ll all be over soon, dears.”

Doc caught her eye and he nodded. Once again, he started spraying bullets at the sniper.

“Go! Run to him!”

The three of them sprinted across, Twitch hearing one bullet bounce off the car next to her.

“Doc, we need back up!” Twitch hissed to him the moment he got back down, angrily reloading his gun, but still managing to give the kids a handsome smile.

“Hello, sir,” the two kids responded.

“They’re cute,” he chuckled before switching positions to a new area and firing again.

“Back up is about five minutes away, but they’re coming from the other side to flank the sniper.”

“Where’s the closest medical center that’s still open?”

“Near our entrance point. I tried to convince them to let me-”

“I need to get them out of here, Doc!”

“Mmm. I can call an armoured vehicle if you want. That way…”

“Ma’am? I’m tired,” Nico murmured, closing his eyes.

“No chance, we don't have time, Doc! You need to treat this boy, now! He might’ve broken his leg trying to run away, and now that-”

“Fuck.” He made his way back to them and unclipped the boy from Twitch, carefully placing him on the ground.

Twitch watched as the calm and collected Doc swore and muttered under his breath while pulling on gloves. He growled something into their coms, and then turned to Twitch.

“I’ve made a splint which will make transport easier, but I need someone to cover me.”

“Sweetie, follow him now, I be behind you three,” Twitch whispered. The girl nodded and held the doctor’s hand.

“Let’s go.”

.

Doc went from a state of homeostasis to a chaotic mind the moment he saw the boy’s injury. There were spots on his legs that seemed to suggest internal bleeding, and it was a closed fracture, which was not easy to assess. Twitch, bless her, was doing so well for her first major crisis, taking down enemies that now swarmed on the handicapped team.

“Faster, my friends!” he called out to the sister who couldn’t keep up. A surge of determination made him swoop down and hold onto the sister as well, running away with two kids in his arms, not slowing down in the slightest.

“I see the police tape!” he called out, hearing Twitch’s footsteps near him. Without waiting for a reply, he ducked under and immediately walked to the medical tents set up on the street. He entered one, announced his presence, and immediately got to work.

.

Meanwhile, Twitch was stationed in front of a computer with the kids’ names, address, and phone number. Against her own will, but maybe due to morbid curiosity, she looked over the names of the confirmed deceased. The information matched up.

But how do you break a child’s heart?

“Collette, we need to have a talk,” she held her hand out to the girl.

The sister always seemed more mature than she looked. Twitch’s jaw clenched when tears collected in the child’s eyes.

“I know what that means. If they were alive, you would’ve told me already.”

Instead of hand holding, the girl climbed into Twitch’s arms and cried for her parents. It was the first time she was allowed to cry for herself since the situation happened, and Twitch was the only witness to it.

.

“I understand the timing is hard to take in,” Director Six took in the sight in front of her.

Twitch was holding the tearstains on her uniform as if they would give her the strength to look up.

Doc had no gloves on, but fresh bloodstains on his chest and the unwritten death certificate of a child in his hands.

Montagne clenched his fists so hard that small trickles of blood flowed from the parts on his palm where his nails cut his own flesh.

But Rook. Somehow, the tears had dried, and even though his hair was still a mess after being thoroughly washed, he stood strong. Though he had a look of hatred that was more intense than any operator Six had met to that point. He kept his team together so far, and he would continue to do so. That’s why he leaned over and signed his name on the document.

He then reached over for Twitch. As if the touch released her from a spell, she gritted her teeth and added her name.

Together, they walked out, leaving the two older men alone to ponder their futures. Doc eventually slapped the unfinished certificate on the desk and angrily signed his name. He then picked up the certificate and left the room.

“Ma’am. I don’t think I can stay in this line of work,” he admitted. “Retirement seems close.”

“Mmm... Well, I cannot influence your decision, but I managed to retrieve these things for you,” she placed a small pouch of items in front of him.

Curious, he picked up the package and examined the outside for clues before sticking his hand in.

Dog tags, photos, a revolver with the initials, O.T, inscribed. The tears that were stuck before glided down his cheeks with ease now. He nodded, unable to speak and signed his name. He then carefully placed all objects back into the pouch, saluted the Director, and left the room.


	3. GSG-9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, once again, any scenes where the GSG-9 are alone, you could assume that they're talking in German, and scenes where I wrote in German should indicate that they were speaking English before/after, so hopefully that makes sense.
> 
> Also, this piece might go on hiatus, as I'll be in a different country, and may not have the time (or means) to post. If that's the case, when I get back in September, you can expect multiple chapters all at once. Sorry for any inconvenience.

Dominic always knew he had a shit reputation. He’s heard every rumour, every accusation, and every insult thrown at him in his long career, and he’s heard enough to know that he should keep his eyes forward as he entered the training room. He was not in the right fucking mood to deal with so many people, and in the recruit room too, of all places. The smelly, messy, recruit room he used to force newbies to clean out during their first week. He was one of the last to arrive he supposed, and politely greeted the stranger at the front of the room. She was new, but just had an aura of power that he knew to recognize as authority.

The first people he passed on his way to find a seat were Elias and Monika. While Elias was technically a friend of his, by no effort of his own, Monika happened to be one of those groupies who gossiped about him and every supposed mistake he’s ever made. The good girl who followed all the rules. What a bore. But Elias was friends with everyone, so that meant that Dominic was going to walk right by, only staring at him for a second before passing them. They were close, and they would be good for each other anyways, so even if he felt just _slightly_ lonely when taking a seat by himself, he didn’t want to ruin Elias’s talk with the good girl of GSG 9.

Sitting down with a sigh, there was a strange burning sensation that made the hair on his arms tingle. It was an insistent stare that could only belong to the one and only Marius Streicher, though when they met gazes, the other man turned away, though not quite able to hide the red cheeks. The fool was probably debating whether he should invite Dominic to sit with him, and no, today was not a day where he would accept someone else’s pity. Especially not an ex’s.

Other people started to stare at his wordless entrance. There was the mechanic that worked with Marius often, also piloting for the force from time to time – basically someone that somehow matches Marius in nerdiness. He took a seat next to Marius and instantly started a conversation about cars or something equally as confusing for Dominic to keep up with. Then there were the two men talking about some training or something behind him. These two were newer members, and had not yet gone on a mission with him. Yet his reputation proceeded him because the moment he relaxed in his chair, they changed their barely audible conversation to talk about him.

But really, no one else’s opinion mattered about him. Not about his brother, not about his undercover stint, and definitely not about what came in the aftermath. And why should he care? Sitting in the same room as him was the closest many of these people would come to ever meeting a real legend.

Who needed friends when everyone was scared of you?

.

The final squad from GSG 9 was Elias, Monika, Dominic, and Marius: a blend of talents that sat on a plane staring at each other, everyone unsure of how to act.

“Why don’t we get to know each other?” Elias suggested with a smile. Of course, he fucking would, Dominic sighed internally.

“What is there to know?” he muttered, catching everyone’s attention. “Marius is a nerd who can barely function as a human being, Monika thinks that anything that’s not in protocol is illegal-”

“That’s because it is!”

“And Elias…” Dominic scoffed, “What are you trying to do? Bond the team? We aren’t five anymore, and you aren’t a preschool teacher. We do our jobs, and you can all ignore me afterwards.”

“You think _we’re_ the problem?” Marius protested before Elias could try to soothe over the conversation. “You’re the one acting like some moody teenager, and lashing out at anyone that tries to become more than just an acceptable acquaintance. God, I can’t take your attitude. I never could – even when I was getting sucked off for dealing with it.”

“You don’t get to-”

“Enough!” Elias was rubbing the bridge of his nose. When he looked back up, he was looking at only Dominic. “When we get off this plane and meet the rest of our new team, you _will_ stand with us because whether or not you realize it, we are a team. I don’t care about whatever happened between you and Marius, I don’t care if you think Monika’s weak, I don’t care if you, for some godforsaken reason think you deserve something else, you’re going to follow orders, and work alongside us!”

Dominic was glaring at all of them. And had it been anyone else, or anywhere else, or hell, even anytime else, he would feel more powerful than he currently was, staring down three trained operators all mirroring his current look. “Fine.”

And that’s what he did. He shook hands with the other teams, walked alongside the other Germans to their dorms, and even unpacked in complete silence. There were days he could justify his behaviour, and there were days when he just… missed how things used to be.

.

Monika had been left on “D-Duty”, a new task the Germans gave themselves after Dominic got into a heated argument with one of the FBI operators. To be honest, she was very intimidated by the man glaring at his phone across the dorm from her. She knew he wouldn’t actually hurt her, but with his reputation, she supposed you could never be too-

“I won’t bite, you know,” he muttered, slamming down his phone and looking up at her.

“If you didn’t want to be here, why did you accept?” she asked.

His eyebrows rose, just the slightest, and he sighed. “That’s none of your business.”

“Well, you’re forcing it to be all our businesses.”

“I know that you three won’t let me be alone, so I’m trying to _behave_ so I can finally be alone outside of the toilets.”

He was right. Dominic probably hadn’t been left alone since they left Germany three days ago.

“You know what I heard about you?”

He sighed, but Monika hid her smile. There was no way he’d expect what she was actually going to say.

“What are you going to bring up? People say a lot of things. Is it that I killed my own twin, I am addicted to drugs, or that I physically torture people who spend time alone with me?” he shot a look at her as he said the last option.

“I heard you’re a great baker.”

He froze. The glare that stared back was so much more intense than anything else she had seen so far. He marched across the room until they were face to face. They were actually so close to each other that she could feel his breath. Out of his sight, she balled her fists up and tensed her muscles, waiting for the first signs of a fight.

Then he laughed.

For the first time in three days, nay, the entire time she had seen him the GSG 9, Dominic Brunsmeier laughed.

“Well played. Very well played,” he chuckled, backing off. “Care to tell me what else you’ve managed to find out then?” He laid back down on his bed, though his attention was turned on her this time.

“I saw you bring in the cake for Marius’s birthday party. At first, I thought it was your lunch or something, but when I thought back, I knew the cake was homemade from the taste, and everyone denied making it. So you were the most plausible suspect.”

“The idiot always asked for his sweets to be less… sweet, so I made a cake with less sugar,” Dominic smiled.

“Explains why he’s so skinny,” Monika muttered.

“Jealous?” That was an understatement. She once read the label on Marius’s pants and almost threw it in his face from how annoyed she got.

“He eats a mountain for every meal and still only remains at his skinny size, and I have to keep a strict diet _and_ workout twice every day! I don’t get cheat days like him.”

“That’s Marius, alright,” Dominic muttered. He was just as skinny, but Monika always assumed that it was for a different reason than the mostly cheerful engineer.

“Do you care at all about the rumours?” he asked, suddenly serious. “Even the ones about…”

“The rape?” she asked, observing how he tried to hide his flinch and how his jaw clenched involuntarily.

“No,” she started, keeping her gaze even with him when he snapped his head to look at her. “Because I’ve seen you drag downed operators from one side of a map to another just so they can be evacuated, all while taking a couple bullets to shield them, and even risking the operation just to save a life. I saw you, the night before we left, fight the same man that had been harassing my friend all evening, even after she rejected him. You never said why you punched him, but you were the one to walk in on them when he tried to corner her.”

“Do you stalk me?” he tried to smile, but it was painfully obvious that it was fake.

“Well, I just don’t think that someone who would fight so hard for others would try something as disgusting as raping a girl, or hurting innocents, or attempting to kill his brother.”

He stayed so still that Monika wondered if he had somehow fallen asleep with his eyes open, only to be shocked when he nodded his head and smiled at her. A genuine one this time.

“I always knew there was a reason why I preferred you to stay with me instead of those two idiots,” he smirked. “Speaking of,” -he switched back to a glare- “don’t you dare speak about any of this to any one else, or else I will turn some of those rumours into truths.”

“Of course! Could you imagine how embarrassing it would be to be killed by the baker,” she joked back, leaning on her own bed.

His frustrated sigh was what made her truly enjoy the fact that this was the team that got called to join Rainbow.

.

Elias had just pinned a kicking Marius underneath him, his bodyweight finally winning him the fight. Marius, as expected, was not pleased and muttered all sorts of insults meant for Elias as he stumbled to feet and stalked away.

“Who’s next?” he smirked at the others. There was a small crowd of operators staring at the proud man standing in the middle of the ring. Monika had been pulled aside earlier and hadn’t returned, and that left-

“Let’s go then,” Dominic stopped leaning against the gym walk and made his way into the training area.

The two men circled each other at first, each trying to read the other. Bandit was the first to make a move though, being the swifter one. He reached low and wrapped both hands around one of Elias’s legs and yanked back, knocking the shorter man to his back. However, he wouldn’t be pinned that easily as Elias then kicked his free foot at Dominic’s shoulder, forcing him to let go and step back to avoid the kick. But as Elias got on his feet, the other man charged and wrapped his arms around Elias’s waist before swinging him back onto the ground, this time with Dominic on top, ready to start wailing punches on Elias.

Elias sucked in a breath and shoved them so that he was now on top. He was about to wrap his hands around the other’s neck when he was thrown again. This time, Dominic stayed close as they rose, easily finding a fistful of Elias’s shirt and rolling back while planting a foot on Elias’s chest to toss the unsuspecting man in the air. When Elias landed, he felt he breath get driven out and he gasped while trying to sit up.

Dominic didn’t give him that chance. The moment Elias tried to get up, the older man planted his knee firmly against the other’s chest, forcing him on his back. “Give up now, and I won’t punch your nose in,” he panted.

“You now I would prefer to taste my food,” Elias smiled back, “You wouldn’t ruin my sense of taste by breaking my nose, would you?” With a strong tug, he was back on his feet, nodding his head at Dominic. This was the ending that worked best for both, clearly. Dominic held both arms up in victory and gave him a smirk. Elias just scoffed and let the other do what they wanted. He was always a sore winner anyways. Nothing had changed.

“Would you want to fight again?” One of the Russians spoke, stepping closer to Dominic.

Elias looked at Dominic for any signs of discomfort. Up until now, none of the Spetsnaz had said anything other than their introductory ‘hello’s’. And while Dominic was an experienced fighter, they were known for having the most brutal CQB training.

“Any time, any where,” Dominic opened up his arms like he was about to hug the man, but Elias knew that it was a challenge, especially since those words were eerily similar to the Spetsnaz motto.

The Spetsnaz member, Elias remembered his name as Kapkan, the hunter, stepped in and offered to shake hands with Dominic. Dominic must’ve read Elias’s thoughts because he very slowly reached out hold the other’s hands. And for good reason too. The moment he was about to draw back again, Kapkan tightened his grip and threw Dominic across the ring.

“Anything to win, da?” he chuckled. Dominic muttered a string of curses, thankfully in German, and got back up with anger in his eyes.

Of course, that would drive Dominic to attack first, throwing out a series of punches and kicks that had the Russian on defence, trying to fend of the rabid human in front of him.

When Dominic backed off again, and to the surprise to everyone, Kapkan let his guard down for a split second to remark, “Surely you can hit harder than that? It was like a baby hitting me.”

“Then let’s see yours.” Dominic shifted his weight around to prepare for the counter attack.

There was no hesitation. The moment those words left Dominic’s mouth, Kapkan struck at the German. Twice in the stomach, a swing at his head, twirl to the side and kick him in the back of the knees. Dominic managed to block off the hits, but that last kick had him stumbling, and he needed his hands to steady himself again.

“Cheap shot,” he muttered when he finally stood straight again.

That made Kapkan laugh. “Only those who aren’t good enough blame their opponents.”

Dominic looked like he was considering murder for a moment, making Elias feel the need to say something. “Nein, Dominic. Mach das nicht!”

“Danke, Mutter.” He bit back, all while glaring at Kapkan.

“Just saying,” Elias held his hands up in mock surrender. The last thing he needed was to get dragged into another sparring match.

He got a grunt as the only response before Dominic actually tackled a startled Kapkan to the ground, managing to pin him and throw a couple punches. Like the fight before, Kapkan switched positions and got a few punches in himself. However, something Dominic never really showed before now to the other ops was how agile he could be, even if he was the oldest German there.

It took him – and Elias was guessing – two full wiggles to get out from under his opponent, and swung around to his back, wrapping his legs around Kapkan’s waist, and his arms around the other man’s neck. As was expected, Kapkan threw himself onto his back in an effort to get Dominic off his back. When they landed, Dominic had to rewrap his legs, but otherwise stayed still. No matter which way Kapkan rolled or tried to throw Dominic off, it didn’t work, until finally, he tapped out.

Dominic would’ve been a less gracious winner had he not taken on a couple bruises as well. Instead of gloating, he shook hands with Kapkan and slinked off towards the showers.

.

This was the first mission the GSG-9 squad had been sent on all together, and the other half of their team was made up of the Spetsnaz. The objective was simple, infiltrate a White Mask cell and record a copy of their information there while wiping out the originals. The side mission was to capture a couple terrorists for interrogation back at Hereford.

As such, it was a two-part mission. First, Elias would plan the attack for a direct route to the main objectives. Once the eight were in the objective room, they would split into three groups. First, a defensive team made of Bandit, Jäger, Kapkan, and Tachanka, led by the latter while they copied the data and destroyed the originals. While they were busy with that task, Blitz and Fuze, and IQ and Glaz would split off to find themselves a few prisoners while eliminating the rest of the terrorists from a two-pronged attack.

Elias already finished his part of the mission, and Dominic was pacing around from door to door, looking out for Jäger while he hurriedly managed the digitized parts. The Russians were particularly useful for the written papers as they were all written in Russian.

“It’s another letter to his sweetheart. Who would date a terrorist?” Kapkan muttered. The EDD traps were already spread throughout the building to give them a warning should any enemies slip through the hands of the attackers. Tachanka, the older Russian, and leader of this team, had left his mounted LMG in favour of helping sort through the files. Not like anything was happening anyways.

“How much longer,” Dominic hissed at his teammates.

“Not too much longer, just one box left,” Kapkan responded.

Jäger slammed his fist on the table where the computer sat. “I have a while to go. If they had a computer that was made in the past decade, I’d be done by now. It feels like this piece of shit was around in the eighties.”

“Hush,” Dominic whispered, hearing a few footsteps. “We still haven’t been cleared yet.”

As he took a step away from the window, one of the EDD’s went of in the room next to theirs.

“LMG mounted and loaded,” Tachanka muttered, sitting at his post. “Jäger, keep on your task. Kapkan, you too. Bandit and I will handle this.”

Bandit nodded and vaulted out of the window, and immediately crouched, trying to keep his head behind the desks he was using as cover. Sure enough there was laboured breathing, and a harsh blue light that meant it was a Bomber. IQ once got sent on a mission on her own where she ran into four of these guys. She had nightmares for a week after that, muttering about how they wouldn’t die, and how they chased her through the halls of the abandoned warehouse were her mission took place.

Still, he kept his breathing steady and crept up on the bomber. He took out his MP7 and lined up the shot. It took two. One to crack the helmet, and another to blow out the terrorist’s brain. The red splatter on the wall said it all.

“I got him,” he reported back. “Heading back n-”

He had to break off communication and hit the ground as a spray of gunfire sounded in the room, and the bullets imbedded themselves in the wall where he once stood in front.

“Bandit!” Tachanka called out. “Everything ok?”

“There’s another one.”

“Lost visual on enemy contact!” the voice shouted out.

What amateurs, Dominic thought to himself. From that, he no knew which entrance they were coming from. He got ready to spring up when a second responded to the first. “Moving in for back up!”

“Hallway clear! I’m moving in for back up!”

That was three. The only time he saw odds disappear that quickly was when he got invited to some underground casino as part of his undercover stint. This was just shitty, wasn’t it?

Reluctantly, he whispered into comms, “I’m gonna need someone for back up, I have one confirmed tango, and at least two unconfirmed.”

“Bandit, I’m coming!” Jäger called out. “I’ll be there soon, hold on!”

Well fuck. Bandit army crawled around his current cover to dart to a nearby shelving unit that adequately hid him. There was electrified barbed wire at the door, so he expected to hear them scream before they entered the room.

“Argh!” one of them tripped and fell, not getting up again. One gunshot later and the wire stopped humming.

He quickly peeked to see at least four more stacked at the doorway. Thinking quickly, he threw out a nitro cell and detonated it, hearing a single scream. Shit. Undershot it. He got his gun ready and peeked again, firing a couple shots which found a single target. They were in the room now though, so he slowly crept around a stack of chairs, just to be greeted with the back of a terrorist. A knife across the throat was all it took, and Bandit spun around, just to get roughly pushed to the ground.

“Get off!” he grunted, feeling the hands of the terrorist wrap around his throat. No matter how hard he pulled on the terrorist’s arms, or thrashed around, he couldn’t find an escape. His vision was darkening, and hands were growing weaker as he tried one last shove.

“Get the fuck off him!”

And just like that, the hands were gone, and Bandit gasped for air, massaging the part that was being squeezed before. He propped himself on his elbow to check in on Jäger, just to see his teammate stabbing the guy over and over again with a hatred Dominic had never seen in anyone but himself.

“Jäger,” he tried to get his friend to stop. However, a coughing fit prevented him from saying anymore, and he could only slowly try to reach out for his teammate.

Blood was getting everywhere. It was spurting from the multiple holes in the terrorist’s body, pooling around the two men on the ground, and staining Jäger’s clothes. Dominic had seen enough blood to not be bothered by that sight, but the sound of a knife cutting into flesh over and over again was grating to his ears. The most disturbing part of it all was that Jäger was completely calm, like he was tying his shoelaces, or fiddling with his magpies.

“Jäger, aufhören!” another voice eclipsed Bandit’s, and Bandit looked up to see Monika standing there with a wide eyed Glaz. She ran over to Jäger and held his hands still. Only then did Glaz move to check up on Bandit.

“What happened?” he whispered.

“Ambush. Did you check in with Kapkan and Tachanka yet?”

“They’re ready for evac. We need to get going as well.”

Bandit took one more glance at his countrymen, now seeing IQ giving Jäger a hug. “Did you capture anyone?”

“No. We couldn’t take any prisoners.”

“Good,” Jäger muttered standing up. “I hate them all. Let’s get out of here.”

The mood on the helicopter was tense. While the mission was a resounding success with the information on their hard drive, and files safely tucked away, no one could ignore the intense glare Jäger was giving the two prisoners that Elias and Fuze managed to capture. They had put Glaz in charge of them, both to ensure they wouldn't escape and that his own team wouldn't attack them. IQ had an arm around the engineer’s shoulders to keep him in his seat just in case, while Fuze and Tachanka looked after Bandit, and Elias was contacting the operators back at Hereford.

Just another day at Rainbow.


	4. FBI SWAT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright... so I can upload and stuff (I mean this is another chapter), but my workload is larger than I expected so updates are going to be slower than my previous pace? (Not sure if this will the amount of work I'll have all the time or just at the start).

_Beep… Beep… Beep…_

That had to be Ash’s least favourite sound of all. Perhaps tied with the nagging she had receive in her youth, yet far better than the lecture she received from _Smoke_ of all people.

“ _Yer insane! What do I wear this mask on my face for, huh? To look pretty? Because you two idiots jumped in, I had to stay with Rook as a team to get down here together. You know protocol doesn’t let us let anyone go off on their own! So why the fuck would you save Thatcher with the two of yeh_ ”

With Mute and Castle left as a mission control of sorts between the two teams, The GSG-9 and Spets were together on an intel gathering mission while the rest of the ops were supposed to clear out a warehouse that was being used as a terrorist cell. At first, the warehouse was empty, completely deserted. But as the they tried to evacuate, they got caught in an ambush with half the team on the ground floor, and the others, including her and Pulse, above them. The first sign that something was wrong with mission was the screaming. From her own teammates. Then the sound of-

“Liza?” The familiar Texan drawl drew her from her memories. “You still here?”

“Of course.”

“You know it wasn’t your fault?”

That got Ash to sigh. Thermite wasn’t the first to tell her it wasn’t her fault. Doc, Six, even Mute had tried to convince her that she did her best and that no one else could’ve done differently, but her best got Pulse on this hospital bed, with his future twenty-four hours still uncertain.

“Does his family know?” she asked.

“No. _Blacker than black,_ right?”

“Right.”

“Hey, seriously,” he took a seat next to her on the uncomfortable hospital chairs. “Have you slept at all since the mission?”

To lie or not to lie… Jordan was no Jack when it came to reading her. “Yeah.”

“I don’t mean some twenty-minute nap. I’m talking about a good eight hours or something.”

Maybe he was better at reading her than she thought. Or Eliza was just too exhausted to lie her way through this. “No. But it’s not like I get eight hours normally anyways, right? It doesn’t help that Thatcher’s also out as well, and Mark and Seamus have clearly been trying to keep Smoke away from me.”

There was a silence. Of course, Jordan didn’t really know where the boundary was when it came to her, and he was never the one to even try to comfort her. That was for Castle.

“You know he’ll be alright, right? Both of them?”

Her scoff left her mouth before she could even try to hide it. “How do you sound so certain?”

“Easy. Jack hides it pretty well, but anytime you look sad, he feels _really_ guilty. That guy has some strange weakness for sad girls, and he if he knew how you were acting right now, he’d get up and walk right out of that room, perfectly fine.” Was everything a joke to him? Somehow, even when Ash was on the verge of collapse, Thermite was slouched in his chair, smile still as bright as ever. “And Thatcher’s too grumpy to die to friendly fire.”

Ash still didn’t seem all that convinced, so Thermite continued, “Tell you what, Miles is gonna get here any minute. You head back to where we're staying and we’ll stay with him.”

“But-”

“If he wakes up, we’ll tell him you’re just in the washroom taking a really long dump so you can rush here as soon as possible.”

That got her to smile. It also earned him a punch on the shoulder. “Fine. But any updates go straight to me, alright?”

“You got it, boss,” he mock-saluted, and watched her say a quick good-bye to Pulse.

“Hang in there. I’ll buy you a drink if you wake up,” she murmured. That’s when Castle knocked on the door. “Yep, I know.”

“Go rest, Eliza,” he said anyways.

.

The explosion shook the factory, making him feel a little unstable as he shook with it. As Pulse steadied himself, he quickly checked that his equipment was still there. Then the scream happened.

“Twitch?” Ash demanded.

Thatcher responded instead, “Bomber… They flanked us. Doc is treating Twitch right now. We need back-up, do you see the hatch in the northwest corner?” Somehow, despite the chaos, the injury, and panic, Thatcher’s voice remained calm, grounding Pulse to his order.

“Do you see it?” he prompted again.

“Yeah,” Pulse caught sight of it. It would take a shotgun to break it down, which-

“Shoot it out, there are two standing right underneath. Then Smoke…” Pulse understood the plan. Gas everyone in the room, but take out the closest ones first to create a distraction.

“Thatcher… You guys gotta run then. The gas’ll catch up too fast to you guys. How much of a head start do you guys have?”

“Montagne’s on it, we just need a distraction. On my mark now.” He avoided the question, Pulse noted. Before he could protest, everyone already moved into position. Smoke had an unshakable faith in his mentor, and Ash, who had only recently met the British man, seemed to already respect him a lot more than her previous commanding officers.

Ash stood near the hatch, as she was the best shooter of all the FBI. Smoke was opposite of her, doing a last check on his canisters. “Alpha in position. On your mark.”

A countdown started, and right before Thatcher shouted the command, Ash shot a breaching round. “NOW!” All lights went out on their side of the building, followed by the explosion, and gunfire. Ash’s gun must’ve found some target because screaming could be heard, and this time, Pulse didn’t recognize it.

“Canisters being deployed. You need fifteen seconds ahead, got it? Detonating canisters!”

“Move! Move!” even from upstairs, Pulse could hear the British man screaming at his team to get to safety. Then came the coughing.

“Thatcher get out of there! THATCHER!”

Smoke was screaming, unable to control his panic. “Ya old bastard, RUN!”

“Smoke, I can’t get to him! We’re closed off by some Masks!” Sledge told them. “Still trying to get Twitch out.”

Ash took one look at Pulse and the two of them nodded. “Spearhead, Pulse, let’s go. Hold your breath!”

“What?” Came the confused response from Rook and Smoke before Ash dropped down right into the midst of smoke.

“No! Don’t-”

Pulse didn’t hear the rest of Smoke’s response. He sucked in air then landed on the floor beneath. Through the thick yellow gas that was already starting to get him to tear up, he saw Ash with another person draped over her shoulders. He rushed over and took on the older man’s weight, freeing Ash to draw her gun and lead them out.

Tears were freely falling from his eyes as his brain was starting to falter.

“Castle, your teammates just-”

“Spearhead? No, they wouldn’t-”

“Keep going!”

“-Rook!”

Only bits of the comms were reaching Pulse at the moment as he staggered a little. The weight on his shoulders was getting heavier and his feet just seemed to drag on the ground. Without air and sprinting while carrying someone made him breathe involuntarily, and that’s when the effects got so much worse.

A slight stinging on his cheek showed that Ash had slapped him and was now standing in front of him, furiously pointing at a door, which she opened up for him to escape first. The fresh air on the other side was heavenly as Pulse drew a single breath before passing out on the cool, tiled floor.

.

“He’s showing…” Doc muttered something in French. He clearly hadn’t slept very well since the mission. First, Doc was icing Bandit up and getting Jäger to agree to some therapy thing. Then keeping an eye on Rook who bloodied his hand when wailing on some terrorists that pinned down the downstairs team. Castle heard that it looked great – one man taking out a team – but he injured something in his hand that stopped him from training, and it was proving difficult to get the young man to take a break. Then there was Twitch who took a bullet to the side of her leg, and was forced to take some bed rest time and rehab. And now, at the end of his rounds, Doc looked like he was about to collapse while prescribing something to the unconscious man.

“I can’t speak German, and Six is recalling me back to base soon with Twitch and Jäger. When Pulse wakes up, give this to the doctors and-”

“ _When_ he wakes up?” Castle asked, perking up and shaking Thermite off of his shoulders.

“Yes, he and Thatcher are actually stabilizing. It shouldn’t be long now.”

“You sound like you haven’t slept in years, man.” The comment was mumbled around as Jordan yawned and stretched.

“I certainly feel it,” the doctor muttered. “C’est la vie, I suppose.”

“I’ll make sure to give this to the doctors,” Castle said, earning him a grateful smile.

“You three should take it easier too. The worst is behind you now.”

“We’ll try, doc,” Thermite smirked. “Don’t know how much Ash will let us…”

.

Thermite kinda wished he didn’t open his mouth about how bored he was in the hospital. Because then Doc asked him to join the Russians on the follow-up mission to the first. Once again, their target was in Russia, meaning that he was squished between the four rather large men who were all looking rather serious. His previous joke was met with mostly silence, though he attributed that to the fact that they didn’t understand his English. That, or maybe they were actually smiling, and that their mouths were covered by their headgear.

“So, uh… You guys got a plan or something?” he tried asking.

“What plan? You open a big fucking hole, and we rush! No plan needed for killing.” Tachanka laughed his booming laugh.

“Don’t forget, Six wants files and information they keep, da?” Glaz reminded them all.

Tachanka did some passive hand wave and grunted something. “Information, info, intel, who cares? We kill first, read later.”

“He’s not serious about no plan, though right?” Thermite leaned in towards Fuze, who as Jordan should’ve expected, just shrugged.

“He does what he does, and we follow. Just do not walk into the cluster charge, and we will be ok.” Glaz, thankfully, leaned over to respond for Fuze.

“But uh… no formation? No direction?” Thermite clarified.

“Only plan is let Tachanka lead us forward. We all stay behind him – except me. I will stay outside to… how do you say… Hey, Maxim!”

The two exchanged words in Russian, getting more and more heated until Glaz finally turned around to say, “Provide overwatch.”

“Alright. I’ll follow your lead,” Thermite smiled, while secretly praying to God that he lived through this style of mission.

.

“Breaching charge ready,” Thermite whispered into comms. “A really big fucking hole, coming right up!”

He could hear Tachanka’s chuckle right before the wall exploded, sending a wave of dirt towards the Rainbow team. The first successful joke so far apparently.

“Alright, behind me!” The Russian man called out.

Just like that, they were in.

.

“Shit! I-I-I… Where am I?” Pulse jerked up, just to feel multiple sets of hands push him back down. Once he settled down, the hands left him and he took in his surroundings.

“That must’ve been only like… The second time I’ve heard you swear?” Castle tried to joke to put the man at ease. Friendly smile. Uneasy eyes. Biting the inside of his lip to hide nervousness.

“How long as it been?”

Ash looked down at her hands before answering. “Almost two days.”

“Damn.”

“Third time.”

“Let me be, I just woke up… How did you get me out?”

His mind was still muddled, and somewhere, he felt like he could still see – still _feel_ – the gas all around him. Yet here he was. Safe. In a room where he wasn’t scared of breathing.

“Let’s just say, Thermite was very gentle with you,” Castle smiled. He succeeded in getting a smile in return.

“Why would you let him… You know, I can’t complain, can I? How’s Thatcher?”

“Getting better. All of SAS from Rainbow are actually here with him. Thermite got sent out on another mission though, so it’s just us here with you.”

“He’s not awake then?” Pulse frowned. The other two exchanged a series of looks that he had no problem deciphering. “He _is_ going to be ok, right?”

“Yeah, of course!” Ash answered, way to quickly.

“He’s just a little older, that’s all," Castle added.

“Plus he’s got-”

"Really, you don't need to-" 

“Guys.”

That got the two of them to pause.

“I believe you, and Doc, and all of them. I just wanted to say thank you... you know... For not leaving me behind.”

“We would never,” Ash and Castle both started at once. “Hey- You stop- What?”

And that’s how Pulse fell asleep again. To the sound of this teammates’ laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thermite's mission with the Spets will come later as part of the Spetsnaz's chapter.


	5. Spetsnaz

There was something bothering Tachanka about his current mission. It left an unsettling feeling of deja vu, though not quite – at least he hoped so – because the memory he thought of was not a happy one.

“Breach charge ready.” Thermite pulled him from his memories. After he had tried to stop the Russians from calling his gadget a breaching charge one too many times, the American gave up on the proper name and called it something they were all familiar with. Alex’s smile was hidden the entire time because he knew quite well, what it was actually called. He gave a small nod, and Thermite smiled, finally able to show off a little. “A really big fucking hole, coming right up!”

Although he was trying not to reminisce, and perhaps he was even a little biased, but the explosion then sounded exactly the same.

.

It was Tachanka’s first time as a team leader, infiltrating a warehouse with a five-man team.

Extremists had been rumoured to have been plotting some scheme with a few powerful families that no one liked the sound of. It should’ve been simple. They were Spetsnaz, these were politicians. Go in, kill, leave. Mission done. His plan was solid: a singular sweep over a single floor building. Breach charges and grenades were plentiful among them, so it all should’ve been smooth.

But if only he knew what awaited them.

.

“You’re clear. Contact to your hard right though. Someone ran to the corner.”

With Fuze’s LMG, he was easily able to prefire the target.

Tachanka felt at home in front of everyone else, like he was the blanket that would protect them from harm. Though he was sure that only he thought of himself like that. The others often saw him as an old soldier, ready to die.

“Alright, big guy, let’s go,” Thermite chuckled once the room was cleared.

“Wait for Glaz,” he murmured back. “Always listen to your sniper, no?”

“Alright, I’ve taken out four terrorists, but there are more down the hall- Oh. Here they come for you.”

There was immediate contact the moment Glaz finished his sentence. Fuze was calmly standing there with his LMG firing its impossibly huge magazine, juxtaposing with the quiet laughter coming from Tachanka with his own LMG. Kapkan was beside him, nitro in hand. When there was a break in Tachanka and Fuze’s shooting, he lobbed it over a couple obstacles and detonated it.

A sickening splattering noise, followed by the red painted on the walls showed just how effective it was.

“Let’s keep moving. Glaz? Update?”

A single shot rang out and a soft thud sounded in front of them.

“He was hiding, but be careful still. He might’ve set a trap or something. Otherwise, you should be clear to move to the next room. I don’t have a good angle to see the entire thing.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

It would seem like the Russians, despite their brave words, were still more cautious than they originally let on – something Alex wished that he learned earlier.

.

“Alex! I don’t have a clear visual, requesting that you take cover!”

“No. We can handle it.”

“But they’re-”

“I said we’re going. Kulemin wants us back as soon as possible and I don’t want that man’s wrath on me.”

“Fine…Be careful of traps. No one sits at a table and plans while being attacked.”

“No need. Just do your job, and let me lead.” Tachanka readied his gun again, waving for Garbovski to move up a little – just to tighten up their formation.

Not even a perfect formation would’ve stopped the floor from caving in underneath him once they got to the objective room.

The next part was vague in his mind. There was an instantaneous feeling of panic and regret that didn’t let him reach out for any possible handholds on his way down. The darkness overwhelmed his vision so the only thing he saw was darkness. He didn’t even realize that he passed out.

When he woke up, they were torturing Petrov, the youngest of them all, barely out of recruit training. His screams echoed off the walls, and that itself was shocking. They had been trained to stay silent under every circumstance, so just how long had they been going that one of his favourite recruits was already sobbing?

That pitiful face was not clear in his memory anymore. No. Just the name he kept screaming. _Anna._ Whether it was his sister, mother, or girlfriend, Alex didn’t know. He never found out either.

.

“Alright, this should be the obj room,” Glaz called out as they approached the final door of the hall. “Remember: we’re looking for dates, locations - meaningful information.”

“Your English is better than you let on,” Fuze muttered in Russian, startling Thermite slightly. Alex stifled his chuckle at the confused look the American was giving them all.

“It’s for our guest,” the response came in English again. “Learn some manners, Fuze.”

“Fine. let’s just get this over with.”

While the three of them were talking, Tachanka and Kapkan had already started taking pictures of important looking documents. There were dates, numbers, random sketchbooks – everything was recorded.

“Hold on, a single tango is in the building from what I can see. They’re running at- Thermite, behind you!”

The three Russians in the room looked up as their guard fired at some armour-clad figure rushing towards them. However, Thermite was a well-trained operative, and so a couple well placed shots made the man fall, but not before a grenade was thrown.

“Thermite!” Tachanka dived at the American, and pushed him to the ground.

Just like the nightmare that refused to rest, Tachanka felt the two of them fall, but not before darkness swallowed his consciousness.

.

“You think your precious leader can save you there? Look at him, tied up and dead. He hasn’t moved since we brought you here. It wouldn’t even being surprising if he _has_ been dead this whole time… So, tell us, what are you fighting for?”

The rage that fueled his insides was not enough to mend the disconnect between Alex’s mind and body. He could hear every word, every scream, every sob, and yet he couldn’t even move a finger.

“Fuck you, you won’t hear a thing from me.”

Yes… Good kid. Keep fighting. Alex just needed a little more time…

“You may feel like you can keep taking punishment, but what about the rest of you? Are you content to watch him suffer? Tell me what I want to hear, and I’ll stop.”

Petrov was the unacknowledged soft spot for many of the soldiers. Whether it was the boyish face, or sweet voice, he had unintentionally become the younger brother of the Spetsnaz.

“Don’t say a word. Alex will wake and-”

A gun fired, and the boy – _his boy –_ didn’t say another word. At first, Tachanka hoped that Petrov was just biting back the pain and that the terrorist had only shot his leg or something. It was the quiet struggling of his other teammates that told him what had happened.

That realization woke something within him, and his eyes snapped open. “I’ll KILL YOU ALL!” Alex roared. He stood with the chair stuck to his bum, suddenly feeling like he had been awake this entire time.

With a quick turn, he knocked one terrorist off balance so that they fell onto their back, unable to move out of the way of Tachanka’s rage. There was no second thought, no hesitation in Alex’s movements. He drove his chair leg through the man’s skull, and the squelching noise made another enemy falter, allowing Alex to headbutt him hard enough to knock out the other man. With the immediate threat over, he then hopped up and crushed his chair, landing on the cold hard ground. As quick as he could, he rose to one knee.

_Click._

“Russian bear… I see they named you well,” the one speaking to Petrov was now talking to him. While the gun was pointed at his teammates, a couple terrorists came up behind him to tie up his hands again. “My rules are simple. I have a question to which I require an answer. If you answer me, I’ll ask my next question and no one gets hurt. Anytime you lie, or anytime you refuse, I kill another of your teammates. And what a shame… That first one was young, no?”

A growl started up deep in his throat.

“If you lay a hand on-”

“Oh, it won’t be my hand that kills them.” He shook his gun for emphasis.

_Teammates are temporary, your country is forever._

He learned to say that when he first joined the army all those years ago.

Ironic how that’s what he remembered now while he watched his teammates resign themselves to their fates. After two questions, Alex was alone.

.

“Hey… Hey! Big guy, get up!” that familiar voice was speaking to him.

Tachanka groaned as he blinked a few times to readjust to the dim light. Immediately, Thermite laughed, more out of relief that anything. “Thank god. Could you imagine me trying to carry _you_ out of here? I mean, I’m pretty fit, but…”

“Fuze? Kapkan?”

“My comms are dead,” Thermite took a step back and explained. “Something slammed into the side of my head, so my comm got completely smashed.” For emphasis, he waved to the blood trickling down the side of his face. When Alex tried to reach out and touch it, Thermite swatted his hands away.

“It’s dried now, and it was only a shallow cut, probably won’t even need stitches.”

The static in his ear also told Tachanka that he was in a similar situation in terms of possible communication. “Where are we?”

“Couldn’t tell ya.” Thermite shook his head. He pointed at a door. “That’s the only exit unless you can rock climb.”

Fair point. The hole they fell from was roughly paved, so it was enough to give them bruises on the way down, but no chance to use the tiny bumps as footholds.

“I should probably mention this now, but your gun’s still there. I took a look at it earlier and I gotta say your scope’s super weird. It’s kinda similar to my pistol? I lost it on the way down, well… Actually, my primary’s gone too. It must be lost somewhere, but… Oh god I’m rambling.”

“Are you sure you’re alright? I can leave you here if you want-”

“No, I need to do something,” Thermite said. “Lead the way – we need to find your teammates. No man left behind, right?”

Tachanka paused. That was not something he heard very often. Must be an American way of thinking. “Right.”

.

Apparently, a biological clock meant nothing without looking at the time, or even the sun. That, and hunger could erase all memories, though their torture methods weren’t helping.

“Who else was here with you?”

“When were you expected to return?”

“Why are the Spetsnaz after us?”

“How much do you know about us?”

No matter the question, the answer was always the same.

_“Fuck you.”_

His time was quickly running out. The longer he stayed in that one room, the more likely it was that he’d be found and rescued. The moment the terrorists thought the risk got too large, they’d kill him, and that’d be it. No vengeance, no retaliation, nothing.

“Reinforcements? How?” Footsteps pounded on the ground until they stopped outside his room.

“Who have you called for?” one of the terrorists growled while holding a knife against Alex’s throat.

Ivanov. Right. After trying to turtle all his thoughts to self-preservation, he forgot about his own sniper. Where was he? He was no coward – too careful for Tachanka, but brave in his own right.

“No one,” he rasped. It was a miracle he didn’t cough up blood with how dry his throat was. If Ivanov was alive, and it seemed that way right now, then the man must’ve been working himself to the bone in order to save what remained of his team. Ivanov was loyal and would do anything for Tachanka. He already knew that, but it didn’t stop the two from clashing from time to time.

A fist made contact with his jaw.

“Liar. We found the bodies already.”

Tachanka took the small break to regain his composure. “How could I have contacted him? You have men watching me day and night. They haven’t reported anything no? It seems like the Spetsnaz are just dealing with a pest.”

The man glared at him and motioned for something to be brought. Ah. His gun. Right.

The terrorist in front of him was strangely against direct violence. Like he couldn’t get his hand dirty. Why was it so special? Did his hands mean something to him? Alex was so fixated on that small detail, that he almost collapsed when his restraints suddenly disappeared.

“I told you so. I knew it was bad, no? Where are the others…”

Ivanov’s eyes widened at the sight of the room and Alex wondered why he didn’t notice earlier. How long would it be until he forgot the smell of rotting flesh?

“It took me a day to get HQ to respond. They told me that I could either come home, or try and rescue you guys.”

“You should’ve gone home,” Alex managed.

“And leave you behind? Hah, you wish. You owe me a drink still. Come on now, let’s get you home.”

.

“What’s in your hand there?” Thermite asked, as he noticed Tachanka’s hand stuffed into the one pocket he rarely opened.

“My good luck charms.”

“Didn’t know you believed in that.”

Tachanka just smiled, knowing it was hidden from his partner. There were four in there, each one as warm as they were when he plucked them off the bodies.

.

“I can see at least four tangos in the next room.”

“And what? I’m just suppose to wrestle them to the ground?”

Kapkan was not impressed with Fuze’s plan, wishing that he somehow landed with Tachanka instead. Fuze was right in saying that they were probably better trained than these terrorists, but the fact that it was a four vs two fight with the four-man side having guns… Those chances were shit to put it lightly.

“What? Are you afraid, Maxim?”

“No, of course not. But living is preferable to dying here, shithead.”

“You always said you wanted to show me how to hunt, yea? Go show me.”

And of course. A challenge the Uzbek knew Kapakn would never want to turn down. So, the hunter glared at his teammate and slowly moved forward, knife in hand.

The first takedown was a thing of beauty: quick, silent, and brutal. Hand over the mouth of his victim to muffle the scream, and knife right through the body. The two stood there until the terrorist slowed his struggling and Kapkan had enough of the warm liquid trickling down his own body. His hand that was muffling any sound was now wet with the man’s tears and drool. Soon enough, Kapkan carefully laid the other man down so there would be no noise from the fall.

Next, Kapkan saw that there was a terrorist walking in a different direction from himself, so he carefully plucked a few pebbles from under his boot and threw them into the darkness to cause a distraction. The guard’s confusion was audible, as were the footsteps that drew near him. With careful steps, Kapkan stalked the man between the cargo boxes until he was close enough to slash at the back of his legs. The man tumbled, and earned himself a knife through his chest. Kapkan took time to take his blade back out and even wiped it on the man’s clothes.

“Where are the last two,” he murmured to Fuze, who had the audacity to take as seat where they landed.

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t know? You said you saw four, didn’t you? Get off your lazy ass and help me!”

The other grumbled as he stood, but was quickly silenced as he stumbled and fell.

“Come on, don’t tell me you’ve gain so much weight that…”

Oh. How didn’t he notice… Was Fuze hiding this? Kapkan had to get him on his feet, and to stop groaning. There were already curious voices getting closer to them, and there was a long gash along the side of the Uzbek’s thigh. A wound that had suddenly decided to mimic a waterfall, just with blood instead. As quickly as he could, Kapkan unwrapped his bandages that Glaz always insisted he bring, just in case.

Wrapping the wound made the half-conscious man squirm, but no noise came out. Whether it was a choice or the fact that he was nearly passed out, well, Kapkan didn’t want to think about it. It was a rough job at best, but nothing else could be done as the voices were getting quieter, yet closer. He had done this in training before, practiced it hundreds more times than he can count, but the moment he tried to drag Fuze to cover, he felt like his muscles had spontaneously turned to jelly. It was a struggle, even when his teammate was limp in his arms.

“Stay quiet, alright?” Kapkan hissed, when he finally dumped his teammate behind a few boxes. This was the last stand, wasn’t it? If he died, they wouldn’t hesitate in killing Fuze.

The dark was really what helped him in the fight. They literally didn’t see him coming until a knife was already thrust through their hearts. And by then… well… they didn’t quite have to worry about anything else. They weren’t the real problem though. It was Fuze.

“Stay awake, da?” He shook his friend.

Fuze groaned and lazily swatted at Kapkan’s hand. “I don’t think I can walk anymore.”

“That’s just cause you’re lazy,” Kapkan slung Fuze’s arm over his shoulders and tried to walk them out of the room. True to his words, the injured man could barely stand, even with almost all his weight placed on Kapkan’s body.

Kapkan had a plan though. He had to in order to get both of them through this.

“Where are we?”

“Your new home until I find help. I need you to stay very still. Hostiles will be looking for us now, so I’ll set up EDD’s at every door. When one goes off, I’ll make my way back, ok? Don’t trigger them yourself, and don’t even get too close to the door of this room.”

Fuze grunted and Kapkan got to work. This was a slightly larger storage closet so he could set one up at this door, and then he only really needed two on either end of the hallway. Other than that… well, it was just luck if they ran through, so he didn’t mind as much about the placement of the traps.

Once everything was set, he checked up on Fuze one more time, who was clinging to consciousness purely out of spite and will. The look Kapkan received when their gazes reminded him of the one stray cat in his neighborhood who he once tried to give a bath. He still had scars.

“Here, I took this off one of the terrorists, as well as his ammo. Stay safe, don’t fire until they actually come through.”

“I’m not stupid.”

“Yes, yes, you’re welcome.”

With that, Kapkan went off to find his other teammates.

.

Glaz had left his post the moment the static started. He saw what happened. Every moment, too. The armoured man wasn’t the threat. No, it was the one behind him, the one that pressed some panel on the wall that sent his teammates tumbling down some hole like this was a movie set or something.

Either way, that man was dead, and Glaz was alone.

The house should’ve been cleared. He couldn’t see anyone from the outside, and his team managed to sweep the entire building. This new basement they got trapped in though… Well that would be an issue. It hadn’t been on any blueprint they had seen, so that meant that this was a job done in secret.

There two tunnels led in different directions, so Glaz had to make a choice. Rainbow already knew about this new development, and even though he was told to stay put, here he was staring down the mouths of these two large caverns. Still, inside might be better than waiting in the cold, cloudy weather outside.

He took a light nap while he waited. This was sure different from any organization he fought with in the past. Such hurried rescue teams were unheard of to him, and from the stories Tachanka told him of the older days, sending a rescue team at all was lucky. But a team of Doc, Ash, IQ, Castle, and Sledge seemed like a group of angels surrounding him as he woke to the sound of shuffling.

Doc, like the kind man Glaz expected from him, immediately demanded to know how he was doing, despite his insistence to go find his teammates first.

Doc, Castle, and Glaz would go down one tunnel, and Sledge, IQ, and Ash would enter the other.

.

Hah. Pain was just superficial. It would come and go, and if death took him? Bah. It wouldn’t matter. No… Matter…

_Stop._

Kapkan had already done so much for him in this godforsaken hellhole. Least he could do was stay awake, even if for once in his life, the cold was starting to seep in, ignoring the thick layers he had worn, even his own body’s natural insulation. If only he hadn’t thrashed around on the way down, maybe then he could’ve avoided whatever stick thing that sliced his leg open.

Still, the footsteps only got closer. The bastard had promised that his traps would go off, hadn’t he? So that meant that…

His hand clenched around his gun as he heard the footsteps outside his room. This was either a clever terrorist, or Kapkan coming back to find him. No one else would know to look for those tiny, stupid lasers that had eliminated Fuze more than he’d like to admit during training.

“Careful. There’s one in this room, too.”

A suppressed pistol. Of course. That’s how they managed it. He lifted his gun to aim at the door. There was a shuffling right outside and his finger tightened on the trigger.

“Fuze?”

Wait…

“It’s me, Doc, are you in here? I’m coming in…”

“Don’t give away your position.” That was Glaz who was chiding the French doctor that he met when he first arrived.

“Friendly,” he rasped out.

Even in the dark room, he saw a shadow settle in front of him, and cool gloves touched his face. “Where are the rest of you?”

Moments later, as he struggled to form words, he gasped as a needle poked him in the leg. Immediately, he felt more awake. “Kapkan trapped the place so I could hide while he tried to find help. My leg-”

“Merde, who wraps an injury like this? Inefficient…” Doc muttered, immediately getting to work.

“I can try to find Kapkan with Glaz, Doc,” Castle told them. “I also have a barricade if you want one.”

“Alright. Let the others know that you’ve changed your plans,” Doc told them.

They were locked back into their room with a small flashlight as the only source of light, yet it didn’t stop Doc from applying fresh bandages over the wound. He kept muttering to himself about improper treatment procedures, how he’d have to teach the entire base how to properly wrap up a wound this large, and how annoyed he’d be with the paperwork tonight.

Fuze didn’t like Doc at first. At first, it seemed like the Frenchman was soft-hearted and generally too kind for this line of work, but the more Fuze watched Doc’s brows furrow, that intense look of concentration. Well, he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of this man’s anger, that was for sure.

“I’ll be fine, yes?”

“Well, depends, are you up to date on your vaccines? How long did it take before you got bandaged up? Have you had anything to eat or drink?”

“…No?”

Had Doc not been finishing up with the bandages, he might’ve thrown his hands up in the air. His patience was running thin. Especially since the patient himself didn’t seem to have any care as to what could happen to him? “To what?”

“To… I don’t know…”

“You’re lucky I’ve read your medical history before, Fuze.” Fuze was so sluggish that he didn’t even manage to dodge the juice box that connected with his chest. “Drink that for the sugar and fluids.”

With shaky hands, Fuze unwrapped the straw, and yet couldn’t even break open the small lid of the juice box with it. Eventually, Doc took pity on him and inserted the straw himself before handing it back.

“I’ll be ok though?”

A tired sigh, “Yes.”

.

When all of them returned back to base, they learned of some poor news. The documents recovered from both this mission and the previous one hinted at a larger attack. More gas, more casualties, more death.

The fight was far from over.


	6. Bartlett pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The italic parts are what is actually said in the intro to Article 5, so this is a short thing over all.

_We have an active situation. The nature of this threat will require a full strike team. You’re being deployed. One of our most notable institutions of learning is under siege. This is more than just an attack on our soul. This is an attack on our future._

.

When a crowd speaks, it’s normal. It’s chatter. It’s the incessant reminder that life is moving forward and well. Each conversation is lost in its own world, untouchable by others, yet all harmoniously melting together to form just one sound. It’s comforting.

When a single person speaks, all others listen. It’s just what you do. It’s the alarm that signifies that something important is being said, and even if it’s not. Well, it’s being said nonetheless. One group of people listening in, even if it’s just for a moment, on a single thought, a single meaning, a person. It’s familiar.

When no one speaks, it’s chaos. Different levels of tension, different mindsets, different intentions. Yet that’s how the operators were during and after the briefing. Armour, uniforms, helmets. No words. Because no words could describe the atrocity that was happening.

.

_We know that all first responders have gone silent. We confirm numerous casualties due to the release of an unidentified biochemical weapon. Our newly assembled Rainbow team faces a trial by fire against an unknown number of enemy combatants._

.

Ash was the first to know. Then the rest of the FBI, including Pulse who just got cleared for duty. Then, the French operators got called in to talk about their experiences with the biochemical weapon, then the rest of Rainbow all learned of it together: Bartlett U was under attack.

Rescue hostages, eliminate all terrorists, disarm bombs. An unknown quantity in more ways than one – and who knows what the smoke hides.

.

_You’re to be inserted directly into the hot zone. We will have decontamination crews on standby. Your orders are to eliminate the threat and rescue any survivors you may have found._

.

The first team to enter was Montagne, Glaz, Thermite, Thatcher, and Sledge. Their first mission was to locate and mark out any civilians who were somehow still alive. Then a team of Doc, Ash, and Smoke would assist in the evac.

Next, they would have to clear as many hostiles as possible. Fuze was the obvious choice, so he, Blitz, Bandit, Pulse, and Twitch would go in with Rook, Mute, Castle, ready to be backup. The rest would suit up to take down the bombs themselves.

.

_This is why Rainbow was formed. This is what you all have trained for._

_Your time is now._


	7. Bartlett pt. 2

Hostage extraction. Two words, three syllables, and seventeen letters. But what it actually was could not be broken down like that. Especially not this hellish scenario.

The issue Smoke first identified with the gas attacks on France was that it was too slow. People would literally have to be tied down for this gas to catch up, though effects were nearly instantaneous. Had he been the idiot that designed this, he would’ve diluted the gas to have it spread faster and sacrifice a bit of its potency.

Unfortunately, he and whatever idiot designed the gas were alike in that aspect. He and Doc were in full biohazard suits, trying to lead this small group of students towards the exit. The policeman with them had died during a gunfight, leaving them down a man.

These two young girls had the idea to hide in an unused lab and turn up the ventilation unit normally preserved for opened chemical containers. That allowed most of the gas to get sucked up while they barricaded the doors to the room and called 911 for help.

They were smart, and now both he and Doc were holding onto one each while trying to rappel down a window. Smoke was covering Doc as footsteps could be heard rushing upstairs towards their position. Doc just readied his rappel as they heard the beeping of a nitro. Hurriedly, Smoke pushed both girls into him and sent him running down.

“Smoke-”

“Get the fuck outta ‘ere before-”

It went off, and Smoke fell from the second floor to the basement. He was still conscious when he landed, though only managed to crawl a few paces away before passing out.

.

Montagne was waiting on the ground to aid with Doc and Smoke’s extraction, but quickly rushed in the moment Doc ran down looking panicked.

“Il a -”

“Get out of here with me first, then I’ll go back for him!”

Montagne faced the building, waiting for someone’s head to poke out – which thankfully none did.

“What happened to Smoke?” Sledge’s frustrated voice called out in comms. Doc could be heard talking frantically, but it was hard to hear exactly what he was saying. “…What? How did neither of you… Understood, I’m entering the field. Ash, get the scouting team ready to enter, but wait for my mark. Montagne, I’m coming to join you. Let’s go rescue that asshole.”

.

Smoke, miraculously, wasn’t found while unconscious. Although his movements were sluggish, his memories were clear.

“Fuck.” He reached for where his shotgun was _supposed_ to be, but found nothing. Just him and the SMG.

“No, he has to have fallen down here somewhere, and he couldn’t’ve escaped yet.”

He froze in his little corner as footsteps walked passed him, pausing just on the other side of whatever he was using for cover.

“Did you hear something?”

“No. You wanna check it out?”

“…Yeah… probably nothing, but can’t be too sure…”

Smoke held his breath and cursed the fact that he wasn’t allowed to wear his own suit. Instead, he was in a fucking yellow hazmat suit that would allow him no chance to run. And even if he shot one dead, the other would just call for reinforcements to take him down. The shadow of a terrorist slipped even closer to him and just before his pulled the trigger, both on the man and his fate, a rat darted out away from him. He gritted his teeth to prevent himself from making a noise.

“Ah, fuck!” There were a couple gun shots, then a squeal. “Just a stinkin’ rat. How that fucker even survived in the gas for this long... Fuck, I fucking hate this place.”

“Just hold on, bombs are getting placed now. Ten minutes after that, and we’re out.”

“How did they think...”

The voices faded away, and Smoke finally drew in a breath to satisfy his lungs. That was closest he's ever come to death, and it still wasn’t over. He got into a crouched stance and looked around in case someone else was coming for him.

Nothing.

So he crept out and made his way down what looked like a maintenance hallway. There was only one set of stairs that led upwards, and if the other two were to be believed, it would be pretty heavily guarded. Maybe...

His hands travelled his chest to see if he had his own weapons ready.

.

Sledge always had an idea of what he wanted to do. Create a rough outline that you can fall back on, yet flexible enough to be changed on the go. That’s what this multi-faced attack was, with approval from both Thatcher and the other ops. All it depended on was a timeline. He already finished his own mission with Monty, Thermite, Thatcher, and Glaz. They already knew when the bombs would be planted and how long the timers would run for. Then Smoke, the man he still felt himself unconsciously doubt, sacrificed himself, prompting a quick rescue mission. If he wanted to ensure the success of the overall mission, he would’ve ordered Fuze to start his mission led by Blitz. Still, he couldn’t leave Smoke behind like this: to die either at the hand of a terrorist, or gas that he seemed to love as much as he loved his beers.

“What...” Montagne was paused at the top of the stairs that led downstairs, and Sledge peeked out to see what had caused the man to pause.

There were bodies everywhere from the top of the stairs to the bottom. No blood… just gas…

Sledge gave Montagne a look, hoping he had a better explanation. The Mountain shrugged, but just then started gagging, pushing against Sledge to back off. They retreated to a more secluded corner for Montagne to catch his breath.

“That’s not the same gas then, right?” he asked Sledge. Now that they were out of whatever was choking Montagne, Sledge squinted at the gas. No… It was moving at a different pace, slightly different colour, and didn’t spread like the gas he had seen so far. This was either a new weapon they were unleashing… or Smoke.

“Give it ten seconds… Then we’ll go in.”

Although it was clear Montagne didn’t quite believe him, he nodded anyways.

.

Sledge was right. Whatever was choking him before was gone, so now Montagne was just slowly making his way into a place that felt more familiar than he would’ve liked.

“Keep forward,” Sledge spoke softly.

To be honest, it wouldn’t matter if Montagne walked quickly or not. The clunk-clunk of his shield would always give him away.

Honestly, the metallic sounds of his shield became like a white noise to him because it meant that he was still standing. He didn’t quite know what he was looking for until the sound of bullets pulled his attention forward at the man dressed in yellow standing behind a couple boxes. As quickly as the figure fired, it put down the gun and practically ran past Montagne and into Sledge’s arms.

“Holy shit, mate, I thought I was gonna die here!” He pulled back and seemed to contemplate giving Montagne a similar greeting until deciding against it - for both their sakes. “Nice to see ya too, ya walking hunk of metal.”

Montagne nodded, not quite sure how to respond, considering the fact that, without his shield, Smoke would've just killed the two of them.

He didn’t need to. After the brief reunion, Sledge was focused on the mission against.

“We need to get out of here before Blitz’s team gets deployed.”

“Ah, right. Don’t wanna get blown up now.”

 _Ping_.

“Shit-”

Smoke and Sledge took cover behind Montagne as more bullets followed the first.

“Everyone alright?” Monty asked, successfully keeping the bullets away from his friends.

There was a long pause with lots of swearing from Smoke. “It cut my suit! For fucks…”

“How long will it take until the gas takes effect?”

There was another pause, where smoke was probably running numbers through his head. He might've been crass and unrefined, but at least his mind was sharp. And right now, Montagne was alright with that.

“I’ve got two minutes… That's not enough...shit... you could try to run back up the stairs while I hold them back. I know you risked a lot to get here, but-”

“No.” Montagne’s answer came before Sledge could even process the request. “Sledge, take him up. They can’t push past me until I move or retract my shield.”

“But-” There was a grunt and Montagne snuck a look behind to see Sledge manhandling Smoke and dashing up the stairs.

This was dangerous. With Smoke losing feeling of his limbs, Sledge wouldn't be able to properly defend them if they ran into someone. Additionally, Montagne would run low on oxygen soon, and really, the terrorists could call for backup to flank him at anytime since his back was open. Yet the defeat in Smoke's voice brought him back to that day in France that seemed so far away now... heh. So, this was why it all seemed so familiar… except maybe… just maybe they could all make it out. Montagne backed up so his shield perfectly blocked off the doorway, and he stood there. Waiting.


	8. Bartlett pt. 3

Sledge changed the plans. Rook, Mute, and Castle, the team that was supposed to help plant the specially made defusers, were now sent to help Montagne get out. Last they heard from him, he had managed to get upstairs and into one of the classrooms, though there had been no updates since then.

.

An unknown body pushed Rook down the stairs, but instead of bracing himself, he tried to reach out for a handhold to stop his fall. His MP5 had slipped out of his hands and got lost in the sea of yellow below. Now all he had was his P9. And his fists. Well, he didn’t have time to reach for the pistol, as whoever pushed him was now pounding on his chest. The punches and kicks landed everywhere when he struggled: his shoulder, his ribs, even his face.

It’s not fair.

A heavy hit to his stomach drove the air out of him. He was young, right? He was a good guy. And these enemies weren’t supposed to be this organized – this competent. He _was_ focused. Get in, get Montagne out, then report for the next mission. But while they were on route to extraction, Rook broke formation around Montagne to investigate a suspicious noise on his own. It turned out to be an ambush, and Rook had just left his team without telling them.

_It’s not fair._

Montagne had family, kids, a life outside of work that Rook didn’t even have. It was a surprise when he took the offer to join Rainbow. And there he was, slumped against a wall struggling with another terrorist. How would Rook justify anything to his teammates – to himself – if he let something bad happen to Monty?

Finally, Rook found an opportunity to stop wrestling with his opponent on the ground. They had him pinned against a desk and Rook was exhausted. With a quick tug on a cord, the desk lamp crashed on the terrorist’s head, finally giving him enough time to pull out his pistol and end the fight.

With his fight over with, Rook had to clean up the rest of the mess he made.

First, he took out the person fighting with Montagne on the ground. That was easy enough considering the man didn’t even see him standing there. Montagne groaned as Rook pulled him up.

“Do you need to rest?”

“No. Where are the others?”

“Castle and Mute got separated from us, so I don’t know. Blitz’s team is clearing out first floor now to try and find them.”

“And defusing?”

“Tachanka is leading that one. They should’ve already finished one by now. We need to get going.”

Satisfied, Montagne leaned on Rook as the two moved towards the that was deemed clear from one of the teams. Now just to find the other two in his team, and hope to god that they were still alive somewhere.

.

“Throwing nitro,” Mute called out. He and Castle were taking turns distracting the enemies while the other repositioned themselves or reloaded. They were in a gunfight with four terrorists in the library.

He called the phone.

Make that two.

“Got one!” Castle muttered, ducking back down.

“Just one more then, yea?”

“Yea.”

Castle nodded for Mute to stand and shoot. Mute had done this enough times with Thatcher to understand the meaning behind it. He hadn’t counted on getting tackled as he stood though.

He blindly swung his fists, hearing the person above him grunt as gunfire sounded even further away.

“Get a grip, man, it’s me! Stay down!” Castle hissed.

The gunfire continued, and Mute recognized that those were two different guns being fired. So either this one terrorist had a giant stash of guns, or there were two terrorists. Just as he was about to ask Castle for a plan, the man above him grunted, and a spurt of warm liquid splashed against Mute.

Castle rolled to the side, grasping at his shoulder. “Shit. I got hit.”

Mark took the chance to poke his head up from a different angle and silenced one of them. The next flurry of bullets came at his hiding spot, forcing him to move away.

“Hold that wound. I’m gonna get this last one, and then I’ll be right back.”

The last guy was so focused on where Mute was last seen, that the young man managed to get within a couple meters before killing the last one. Castle was still on the ground holding onto his shoulder, teeth clenched, and swearing like no tomorrow.

“You know, this is generally what happens when you try to shield someone with your own body.”

All he got was more swears as he dressed the wound to the best of his ability. Mute helped his friend to his feet and they stumbled towards the next room, closest to where Rook and Montagne were last seen.

“This gas probably has nothing on the farts my old aunt Jenny used to pass” Castle joked part way through their trek.

Curious. Mute had only worked with Castle a few times. When they were together during training sessions, and during that disaster mission when they were left behind as strategists. But no matter what, whether they were the first out because Mark made a mistake, or even when Mark had a near meltdown as he listened to coms as Thatcher collapsed, Castle always managed to lighten the mood.

_“Hey, if Bandit dares destroy your jammers on purpose, let me know. I got a set of lockpicks, and Thatcher has unlimited EMP’s”_

_“Don’t worry about the old man. He’s too angry to die without chewing Smoke out one last time.”_

Mute didn’t dare linger though because there was another pair of footsteps getting nearer. Many, actually.

“Stay here, I’m gonna go fight ‘em.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Castle muttered. “My left shoulder’s out, not my right. Let me back you up.”

The offer was sweet, and something Mute definitely needed at the moment to calm him down. “I don’t want you getting more hurt.”

“Nah, the universe won’t let me die so quickly. I’m still the only black guy on the team. You need me here for diversity, and you aren’t enough, _Chandar_.”

That made Mark laugh. Against all reason, he laughed at that stupid American accent he once found so, _so_ annoying. He always thought his name sounded like a pirate when the Americans said it, and the way Castle emphasized it…

“Mute? Castle?”

Mark’s heart stuttered at Rook’s trembling voice.

The Frenchman was now sporting a couple new bruises on his face that weren’t there before, and he had a larger Frenchman draped over him. But when the two met gazes, they both had wide smiles.

“We still need backup,” Castle reminded them. “With both me and Montagne out, you’re gonna need help soon.”

“Blitz’s team should be in by now,” Rook explained. “I’ve contacted them. Come with us, and they’ll drop by.”

.

The last thing on Blitz’s mind right now was the rescue. Fuze had used up all his cluster charges, and the rendezvous point he set up with Rook was farther away now that it had seemed. No one expected to run into this group of terrorists on their way to pick up their teammates.

Blitz sprinted with his shield up to deflect the bullets, and when he got close enough, flashed, then smashed, as Thermite once passionately called out during a training.

His teammates were firing around him at the ones that were just a little too far away. “Are we done here?” he finally managed to ask.

A single shot rang out, and Glaz’s voice called out, “Clear!”

.

“This is Glaz, Castle, your team is getting close to Blitz, please don’t shoot them.”

“I’ll try my best,” Castle smirked. Everything was heavy and he could feel Mark constantly readjusting to take on more and more weight. “Am I too heavy for you? Or are you just subtly telling me to lose some weight?”

Mark scoffed, “Both at this rate. But we’re almost there.”

Being in charge of the two youngest operators would come with its own challenges. Castle knew that. One was that no matter how much they trained, the real situations were always worse. As a result, he felt the need to make more jokes – anything to make them feel more comfortable with their situation. The other was that the younger ones had a lot to learn in terms of communication and teamwork with unfamiliar teammates. Rook had gone off without direct orders from him, and Mute misread his nod as a signal to stand, instead of just turning to face that direction.

What’s done was done though.

In the distance, covered by yellow smoke, they saw the distinct white flashes. A familiar voice joked around, and in that moment, Castle felt a wave of relief wash over him.

“Remember, point your guns at the bad guys, ja?”

“Like I said, get us out of here, and I won’t have to,” Castle retorted.

The sweeping team quickly formed around them to take them all outside where Castle could see the carnage that had happened since entering. There were significantly less first responders still alive, but there was less smoke, like the building was sucking it all back in.

“Open flesh wound?”

When had Doc gotten there? Castle was fading in and out of consciousness now, and he had no say in what was happening.

“Stay still, Miles, you’re safe,” another voice joined in. Both seemed to be growing distant, and his eyes finally closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been feeling like my writing for this series has been getting worse, so I plan to leave this series alone for a bit while I plan out my last parts for Year 0. In the meantime, I want to keep writing for practice, so I'll post a some oneshots here, FictionPress, or on Tumblr. Not everything I write will be R6 related (since fanfics are pretty new to me), but if there's something you really want to see me write, message me on my tumblr (lacklusterswirl). I'd be pretty open to most ships/scenarios/general questions.


	9. Bartlett pt. 4

“How much more time?”

“It’s set,” Ash confirmed, crawling behind cover.

The yellow gas was settling now. The initial attack was technically over. Had a lucky drone not caught sight of Bomb A, phase two of the attack would’ve happened and caught everyone off guard.

Ash held down an angle, hearing the tell-tale signs of feet stomping on the ground.

“Incoming.”

The sound of her safety switching off was the last thing she heard before the gunfire.

This was the second time today.

After this, who knows. One bomb was already defused by the team led by Thatcher, and this was the second.

“Ok, it’s done,” the confirmation came. She watched the door as Twitch droned around their area, and gave her the ok to pack up. Glaz was reading off positions near Thatcher, and even from all the way across the school, she could hear the sound of grenades.

IQ flipped her scanner up and confirmed that no more bombers were heading her way. The remaining operators who weren’t part of the mission were on drones, scanning every room, hallway, and corner for remaining hostiles.

But they found none.

.

“There was no other team in the world that could have accomplished what you did today. But this victory comes with a cost.”

_Lights. So many lights when they stepped out again. From the early morning light to the blueish tint that had since taken over once day turned to evening. Then there were the repeating ones. The red and blue._

_Those weren’t the only colours._

_There was red on the victim’s chest, but green was the background on which they saw it. There was a lot of yellow. Yellow on the suits of the hazmat teams, and the operators. There was white. A lot of white. The terrorists had white masks, the injured and dying victims had white masks, and the first responders all did too. And then some black. Body bags, dead eyes, the approaching night, and the ink that signed the death certificates._

_Doc found it funny that they were called team Rainbow._

“Our nation has been hit where we are most vulnerable. But we must remain vigilant in the face of this emerging threat.”

_For weeks afterwards, every cough made them flinch. He saw it at the gym, at breakfast, even in their dorms. It wasn’t hard to find someone willing to stay up with you during those nights._

_His mother wore a red turtleneck that just looked a little_ too _familiar, and all of the sudden, the image of her lying on a stretcher with men in yellow suits standing over her would be all that he could see. He could see red, but not just from her shirt._

_Thermite wore blue for a week._

“The ultimate goal of our enemy is still unknown.”

_There was a lot of yelling. Well, there always was. But recently, they had all been about the same topic._

_The Germans and Russians were facing heat for the fact that so much testing and plotting had gone unnoticed in their home countries, while the Americans were putting up a bravado to seem unaffected._

_Rainbow was showing its true colours._

“Reactivating Team Rainbow was the right choice. Our work is just beginning. We will track down the people responsible for this attack. We will show them that we are not afraid, and we will stand ready to repel any threat they throw our way now Rainbow is back.”

.

“You guys couldn’t even track down a warehouse in the middle of your goddamn country, how do we know for sure that there’s nothing else in that barren land?”

“You are doubting us? One factory was found. Do you know how big our country is? We are number one! Talk to the Germans and ask how the fuck they acquired guns there!”

“Hey! At least our people found it. Yours went unnoticed! Clearly this has to do with the-”

“Don’t fucking finish that sentence.”

“And so how did they even get to America, hm? Porter said it himself that they had accents from all over. Why is the country that prides itself on security letting in terrorists?”

“Did you not even read the file? This was organized entirely elsewhere!”

“They still had to get in thought.”

“Let’s stop blaming each other and try to think rationally, please.”

“Easy for you to say when the most elite operating force is right in your stupid island of a country.”

“Not like it stopped the London threats, huh?”

“Look, realistically, they will have moved to Mexico. More connections, shares a land border, and easy to disappear.”

“No way, the actually leaders must still be in Europe somewhere.”

“And what about Asia? There’s just the same amount of opportunity there, and they won’t be expecting it since it’s halfway across the world.”

“ _Actually_.”

Six walked into the room, shutting up all operators currently waiting for debrief.

“We have intel that the White Masks are currently taking over a yacht in Canada. Canada has granted Rainbow rights to act on it as long as we’re partnered with some of their best.”


	10. Epilogue

“Funny seeing you here.”

Smoke saw the distinct red hair poke into his hospital room before she even announced her presence.

He wasn’t expecting any more visitors. Thatcher, Sledge, and Mute all left for some debrief, but their words still stuck in his head.

_“Do you remember what I said to you during our selection?” Thatcher doesn’t normally talk like this. Smoke spent enough time under the man to know this._

_“Yeah, that people see me as a hazard. That I’m a fucking loose cannon.”_

_“What kind of impression do you think you’ve made this time?”_

_“Oh, they must hate me more. I chewed out Ash, acted on impulse with Doc, and then nearly killed Montagne. That was just from today. I nearly killed you too, remember?”_

There was no reply.

Thatcher promised to have a one on one eventually. But it would seem that it would have to wait even more now.

“I just thought I should check up on you.”

“You? All by yourself too, huh?”

“Look,” she took a seat by his hospital bed. Now that he actually took a good look at her, he noticed the tempting box of chocolates on her lap. “I never apologized for how I called the shots that day in-”

“No need. You were the leader. I needed to respect that.”

“Wait-” she clenched her fist like she regretted stopping him. From how she tensed and untensed the muscles in her arm, she was struggling with her next words.

“No, _you were right._ I was lead, but I didn’t even consider the individual specialists on my team. I made a mistake and almost cost you your friend. However, I can guarantee that it will not happen again.”

They stared at each other. Neither knew how to follow up with it. “You got the job done. It wasn’t my way, but sometimes that happens. For what it’s worth, I was relieved to hear that Pulse was ok.”

She smiled back. “Get well soon. You were a hero to those two girls, you know? Maybe ten years younger, and you would’ve had some dates lined up.”

He scoffed and reached for the sweets she left behind. _Hero._ That sounded good.

“Don’t be so jealous!”

Thatcher replaced the FBI operator in his room, and his satisfied smile told it all.

.

“And how are you, Coco?” Twitch smiled at the young face in front of her on the screen.

“I’m fine. I was worried about you though. A scary man came up and told me that you were there in America. I…”

That’s when the little girl bit her lip.

“But I’m fine. Do you remember the doctor? He was with me, and we protected each other again. Have you done something other than worry about me?”

“I did my homework, Manu. your parents and friends are very smart, and they help me with maths.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Rook smiled at his best friend’s new, adopted sister. His bruises faded quickly, and being with his second family was helping him recover much quicker than others. With a quick wave both at Twitch and Coco, he walked down to infirmary.

Thatcher had just disappeared into Smoke’s room, and laughter could be heard. Wonderful. Just one door over, he walked in on Doc and Montagne staring at a laptop.

“We miss you, papa! Get better soon!”

“I’ll be home to see you soon. Be kind to your mother, ok?”

“Ok!”

The two older men shared a chuckle before noticing the younger operator standing at the door. “How are you?” Doc asked.

“Fine. I just wanted to say something to both of you, but you specifically, Montagne.”

They shared a look before nodding for Rook to continue. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to walk off on the rescue mission. I allowed myself to get distracted, and it almost cost you your-”

The raised hand was all he needed to stop talking. “Apologies don’t fix mistakes. As long as you learn from it, that’s all I ask.”

Julien nodded. “Ok. Well… I hope you get well soon.”

“Me too.”

.

“Why haven’t you guys eaten yet?” IQ asked.

Her forehead was lined with sweat, and her workout outfit was still on, yet that wasn’t why she seemed out of place. She was the only one smiling.

“I don’t know, maybe because we don’t want to cause an international conflict when I punch someone in the face for suggesting that we enabled the stupid White Masks,” Bandit groaned and rolled over in bed.

“Did it really get that bad?”

“While you had your fun with the girls at the gym, Jack said something against the Russians and dragged everyone into a “discussion”. We nearly had a four-way bar fight.” Bandit wasn’t even looking at her.

Even Elias seemed kind of limp on his own bed, while Jäger was fiddling with his ADS on the floor instead of in the workshop.

“That can’t be right.”

“Except it is. And now Doc and Castle are trying to smooth things over.” Elias finally faced her, clearly tired, and yet his eyes were still shining bright. She just couldn’t tell if it was out of anger, or just the natural light.

“Castle told us to cool off while he smoothed things over between the FBI and the Russians first.”

“Smart man, because I would’ve fought someone,” Jäger muttered. Bandit snorted while Elias just sighed. When the mechanic looked up at IQ, he shrugged. “We were doing our jobs. It’s not our fault they couldn’t-”

“Marius.”

Elias muttered

Jäger rolled his eyes at Blitz. “Thanks, mom. I could’ve taken one of the FBI, no problem.”

“Not what we’re here to do.”

“Why don’t I go and check up on their status?” Three reluctant grumbles sounded back, and she quickly left again.

It turns out that the picture they painted only got worse. Thatcher didn’t seem to bat an eye at the others once he had his own team under control. It was comical to see the four British men sip their tea while the three younger Spetsnaz were glaring at them. Castle seemed to be having a calm conversation with Tachanka, while Ash, also in workout clothes, seemed to be quietly chewing out Jack and Jordan. On the other hand, the French operators were missing completely, sans Doc, who was trying to reason with Kapkan, Glaz, and Fuze, none of whom were even looking at him.

Sending in IQ alone was a mistake though.

“What, are the German men more cowardly than their women?” Kapkan muttered, immediately causing IQ to ball her fists up.

Five countries, five opinions. None of them similar. No wonder Bandit had exiled himself first.

“No, we’d rather take this logically instead of acting like children,” she retorted.

And it was only going to get worse.

“At least she’s here. Not like those Frenchies!” Smoke tossed out.

Because the Rook and Twitch just entered.

.

Castle mentally groaned when Rook and Twitch entered just in time to hear the insult thrown out by Smoke. He finally felt as though he was making ground with Tachanka. But all his rhetoric was gone. Tossed into the trash by a careless remark.

Rook tensed and was about to march up Smoke when Doc tactfully intercepted him.

They exchanged quick words in French, and the only thing Miles understood was, “ _but Montagne._ ”

“Porter, sit your ass down and grow up. You owe Giles an apology and a thank you, don’t forget that.” The room fell silent at Thatcher’s first words.

The SAS operator stood up, still holding his comically small tea cup. “Now, when we all started our jobs, we understood who the enemy was. Not the other units sitting in the same damn base, but the terrorists who are apparently trying to take over a yacht in Canada. Now imagine what a water base would mean for us. _All_ of us.”

“Portable weaponry that can stay undetected in international waters.” Ash chimed in.

“A base that would be hard to take down without drawing the world’s attention,” Doc muttered.

IQ frowned. “Leading to international panic.”

“When is this happening?” Tachanka asked.

“In one week,” Thatcher confirmed. “They’ve already taken off, but the Canadian ops are trying to track down and corner the yacht before they reach international waters. In the meantime, they’re sending a small squad over to train with us and take our input for tactical decisions. Remember, that to them, we are a team proving ourselves as reliable allies. They still have jurisdiction over the situation, and the moment we show that we are not capable enough, they’ll kick us off the mission. I don’t know about you guys, but I’d rather kick a terrorist’s ass instead of yours.”

A few chuckles accompanied him, and Castle finally relaxed. Even Doc had a small smirk played on his lips.

“I agree,” Castle spoke up. He already held enough respect from everyone to pull all attention onto himself. “Six is going to have her second in command start to analyze us tomorrow. If we cannot pull our heads out of our collective asses, we’re not going to prove anything except we aren’t reliable enough to take down a few Canadian terrorists.”

“Knowing them, they probably smuggle maple syrup instead of bullets,” Bandit’s voice sounded, and he led the remaining Germans into the room. “Have you ever gotten syrup in your beard before? Disgusting.”

.

Tachanka sat with Thatcher at a table discussing something that had since dissolved into a tirade against the younger operators.

“And they can’t live without their phones!”

“Da! It’s picture this, chirp that, no sense of anything!”

The two ignored the groans from the youngest operators who were sitting at a table next to them. Tachanka was surprised to see Glaz getting along so well with the four. He normally sat alone at gatherings like this, yet there he was, staring at something off of Twitch’s phone.

“Oi, don’t piss on our fun just because you’ve forgotten how to laugh.” Mute was _smiling_. Clearly a new sight for Thatcher, as well as Alex himself.

It was good to see that IQ, Jäger, and Fuze got along when it came to their electronics, arguing about something or other. Meanwhile, Kapkan was talking in hushed tones with Doc. This was good. But he couldn’t help but feel on edge. This wouldn’t last. He just couldn’t place his finger on why.

.

“Boss, we’ve been detected. They’ve already sent out troops to stop us. What should we do? We can’t outrun them!”

Deep breath. This wasn’t an issue. Not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently rethinking my Black Ice ops thing since... well... You know the board...
> 
> But thanks for reading Year 0 :)


End file.
